“Is Luca stable?” Sullivan asked, his professional voice returning.

“Yes, but his oxygen levels are still fluctuating,” she said.

We walked down the hallway to room 412.

I stopped at the glass door.

Inside, Luca was lying in a small plastic crib.

There were tiny tubes in his nose and a monitor taped to his foot.

He looked so small under the harsh fluorescent lights.

I pushed the door open and walked to the side of the crib.

I reached through the plastic opening and touched his tiny hand.

His fingers were warm, and they curled around my pinky finger.

Tears spilled over my cheeks.

“He’s going to be okay, Lauren,” Sullivan said, stepping up to the monitor.

“His heart rate is stabilizing.”

Giovanni stood in the doorway, keeping his distance.

He looked at Luca, and then he looked at me.

“I have to go,” Giovanni said quietly.

“Where?” I asked, turning to face him.

“I have to finish this,” he said.

He tapped his pocket, where the black tablet lay hidden.

“Vance’s ledger has more than just payroll,” Giovanni said.