I reached into the crib and scooped Luca into my arms, wrapping his blanket tight around him.

The medical tubes disconnected with a sharp tug, and the monitor on the table died completely.

“We need to get to the panic room,” Giovanni said, grabbing Dr. Sullivan by the arm.

“Now.”

“What about his medicine?” Dr. Sullivan asked, panic rising in his voice.

“His IV?”

“Grab the emergency kit,” Giovanni ordered.

“We don’t have time.”

A loud, metallic crash echoed from the lower level of the house, followed by the muffled sound of breaking glass.

Giovanni moved us toward the hidden door behind the bookshelf in his study.

He pushed the panel, and the heavy wood swung open to reveal a narrow, concrete stairwell leading down.

As we stepped into the dark passage, I felt Luca’s body against my chest.

He felt hotter.

I pressed my cheek against his forehead.

The burning heat was back, radiating through his small frame.

“Giovanni,” I whispered, my voice trembling as we hurried down the stairs.

“His fever.”

“It’s spiking again.”

Before Giovanni could answer, the heavy steel door at the top of the stairs creaked open.