A yellow cab was idling at the corner, its headlights cutting through the gray mist.

I threw myself into the backseat, slamming the door behind me.

“Drive,” I gasped, looking back through the rear window.

Julian emerged from the lobby entrance, his face pale, a dark red mark rising on his cheek as he stared directly at the departing cab.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the black keycard, rubbing my thumb over the small, embossed logo of a private medical provider on the back.

“Where to, lady?” the driver asked.

His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, dark and tired.

I looked down at the plastic card in my hand, my fingers tracing the raised silver lettering.

The logo read *Aetheris Wellness*.

Underneath, in tiny print, was an address on East 72nd Street.

“East Seventy-Second,” I said, my voice shaking. “Between Park and Madison. Please, hurry.”

The driver nodded, shifted into drive, and pulled away from the curb.

The wipers scraped rhythmically against the windshield, clearing the freezing sleet.

I looked back through the rear window, but the gray mist of Queens had already swallowed Julian’s silhouette.