As we reached the lobby, Thomas’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket.

He pulled it out, looked at the screen, and frowned.

“I need to take this,” he said, stepping away toward the glass doors that led to the parking garage. “It’s a private number.”

I watched him walk away, his tall, slightly stooped frame disappearing into the gray light of the rainy afternoon.

Laura pushed my chair toward the main exit where Victoria was waiting to hail a cab.

“I’ll go bring the car around,” Laura said, handing her purse to me. “It’s parked in the side lot. It’ll be easier to load the wheelchair there.”

“Okay,” I said, leaning back against the vinyl seat of the chair.

My phone buzzed in my lap.

It was another text from the unknown number.

I opened it, my heart stopping as I read the words.

“Look out the side exit. Your paramedic has a price.”

My fingers shook as I gripped the screen.

I looked toward the heavy glass doors of the lobby.

Thomas was gone, but his tall figure was visible through the rain-streaked pane.