“Yes,” Victoria agreed. “The security at the medical facility will be light.”

“Most of the family guards will be at the gala for crowd control.”

“We can get Alexander out,” I said.

“But we need to bypass the main gate,” she said.

“I have my father’s gate pass,” she said, showing me a black plastic card.

“We drive up, we get him, and we bring him to my family’s old estate in Maine.”

“Nobody goes there anymore,” she added.

“Is it safe?” I asked.

“It’s the only place my father won’t look immediately,” she said.

We walked out to the parking garage.

Her black SUV was waiting in the lower level.

The air down there smelled of exhaust and damp concrete.

We got in, and Victoria started the engine.

The GPS on the dashboard was already set for upstate New York.

The drive took nearly three hours.

The city disappeared, replaced by dark highways and heavy trees.

Neither of us spoke much.

The rain turned into a thick, heavy fog as we climbed into the hills.

My mind kept going back to the files.