“I need to clean this out, or he won’t last two hours.”

Leo stood by the desk, his arms crossed.

“Use the doctor’s bag,” Leo said.

“But do it quickly.”

“I want those papers signed before the clock strikes midnight.”

I walked over to the metal cart.

My fingers trembled as I reached into the black leather bag.

I moved aside a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a packet of sterile needles.

At the bottom of the case, resting in a small leather slot, was a steel scalpel.

Its blade was exceptionally clean, reflecting the dim light of the library lamp.

I looked back at Leo.

He was looking down at his phone, his thumb sliding across the screen.

The guard was watching the door, his hand still on his gun.

I reached into the bag and let my fingers drape over the cold metal handle of the scalpel.

I pulled out a roll of medical tape first, keeping my hand closed around the small blade.

I slipped my hand into my cardigan pocket, letting the scalpel slide deep into the wool lining.