“We have to be fast,” she said.

“There are only two nurses on duty at this hour.”

“And one guard inside the lobby,” she added.

We got out of the car, keeping our heads down.

The gravel crunched softly under our boots.

We slipped through a side door that led to a service hallway.

The hallway smelled of antiseptic and floor wax.

We walked past several closed doors with small glass windows.

Finally, Victoria stopped outside room 104.

She looked through the glass.

She nodded to me.

I pushed the door open.

The room was dark, lit only by the green glow of a heart monitor.

A man was lying in the bed, pale and thin.

He had wires attached to his chest and an IV in his arm.

His face was identical to Julian’s, but there was a softness to him.

It was Alexander.

My heart stopped.

I stepped closer to the bed.

His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and shallow.

“Alexander,” I whispered, reaching out to touch his hand.

His skin was warm, but his fingers were limp.

He didn’t move.