The device beeped twice in the quiet room.

“One hundred and four point two,” Dr. Sullivan said, his voice trembling.

“Oh God,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision.

I smoothed Luca’s damp hair away from his forehead.

“We need to get the IV started again,” Dr. Sullivan said. “He is dehydrating.”

He reached into his bag and pulled out a bag of saline and a plastic tube.

“I need a clean surface and a light,” he added.

Giovanni walked over, carrying a portable lantern from the shelves.

He set it on the table, casting a bright, white light over Luca.

“Do it quickly,” Giovanni said. “We don’t know how long those doors will hold.”

“They are reinforced steel,” I said, trying to reassure myself. “They can’t get through.”

“They have explosives, Lauren,” Giovanni said quietly. “If they want in, they will find a way.”

He walked back to the monitors, his hand resting on the holster at his hip.

I watched Dr. Sullivan’s hands as he prepared the needle.

The doctor was shaking, his fingers fumbling with the plastic packaging.