“Lauren,” a woman’s voice said, sharp and urgent.

“You need to leave the hospital right now.”

“Who is this?” I asked, my heart beginning to race.

“There’s no time,” the woman said.

“They know where you are.”

A sliver of yellow light from the hallway cut across the dark room.

I braced myself, my hand reaching for the heavy metal IV pole.

If anyone came through that door to hurt my son, I would fight them with everything I had left.

The door opened wider, revealing the man standing in the threshold.

His face was in shadow, but I could see the wet fabric of his dark coat.

He stepped into the room, and the light from the hallway caught his eyes.

They were cold, grey, and completely unfamiliar.

“Lauren,” he said, his voice a low whisper.

“You need to come with me right now.”

He reached into his pocket.

My grip on the metal pole tightened.

“Don’t touch him,” I said, my voice cold as ice.

The man stopped, his hand still in his coat.

He looked at the metal pole in my hands, then at Luca sleeping in the crib.