At the end of the hall, the heavy steel door of the panic room stood half-open, its indicator light glowing red.

“In, now,” I said, pushing Nora and Lila inside the small, steel-lined chamber.

Daniel carried Clara inside, laying her on the leather cot against the back wall.

I reached for the heavy steel lever of the panic room door, my fingers slick with sweat and dust.

Before I could pull it down, a soft chime echoed from the pocket of my jacket.

I pulled out my phone.

The screen lit up with an incoming video call from an blocked number.

I swiped the screen.

The face of Caleb Bennett appeared, illuminated by the cold green light of a tactical monitor.

Behind him, through the window of his truck, I could see the blazing lights of the main estate entrance.

“You should have given me the codes, Adrian,” Caleb said, his voice steady and calm.

Beside him in the passenger seat, Elena was tapping keys on a military-grade laptop.

“I have Marcus,” Caleb said, tilting his camera downward to show Marcus kneeling in the dirt, his hands bound behind his back. “And we are coming for the girl.”