“Where is Roman?” Elias whispered urgently.

“In the study,” I said, my voice shaking. “We can’t leave him.”

“There’s no time,” Elias said, dragging me toward the basement stairs. “They are already inside.”

I looked back up the dark stairs, thinking of Roman feverish and unarmed.

But the key in my pocket felt like a brand.

If I stayed, they would get the key, and we would both die.

If I ran, they would follow.

I made my choice.

“Lead the way,” I whispered to Elias.

We descended into the cold, damp air of the basement, the smell of old concrete rising to meet us.

Behind us, the heavy oak door to the basement clicked shut.

Then, the sound of footsteps began to descend the stairs above us, slow and deliberate.

Elias pulled me behind a stack of wooden crates.

The smell of dust and damp earth was thick.

A flashlight beam sliced through the darkness from the top of the stairs.

“Show yourself,” a voice commanded.

It was Roman’s voice, raspy but steady.

The beam found us, blinding me for a second.