“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked.

“Because they made me help them,” she sobbed. “They’re already there, Lauren. They’ve been planning this for hours.”

The line went dead with a sharp, static pop.

I stared at the black screen of my phone, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“Lauren?” Dr. Sullivan’s voice called out from the dark hatch below.

“I’m coming,” I said.

I slid the phone into my jacket pocket and grabbed the cold iron rim of the hatch.

I swung my legs over the edge into the black void.

My boots searched for the metal rungs of the ladder.

I climbed down quickly, the damp air of the tunnel rising up to meet me.

It felt like stepping into an icebox.

At the bottom of the ladder, my boots splashed into two inches of standing mud.

“Give me the light,” Sullivan whispered.

I pulled out my phone and switched on the flashlight.

The narrow beam cut through the darkness, revealing curved walls of old, red brick.

Water dripped from the ceiling in steady, echoing beats.

Sullivan stood there, cradling Luca against his chest.