They walked away, their footsteps echoing off the high ceiling.

Henderson followed them, looking like a man who knew he was on the losing side of a very expensive battle.

“Come on,” Thomas said, helping me stand.

“Let’s get back to the hospital. Laura is waiting with Ethan.”

We walked out into the cold Denver air.

The snow was falling faster now, dusting the windshield of Thomas’s truck.

The heater groaned as Thomas turned the key, slowly filling the cab with warm air.

I leaned my head against the cold glass of the window.

“Are you okay, Emma?” Thomas asked, shifting the truck into drive.

“I feel like I can finally breathe,” I said.

“That’s the first step,” Thomas said, his hands steady on the steering wheel.

We drove through the gray streets, past the towering glass buildings of downtown.

My mind kept going back to the room where I had almost died.

I remembered the smell of the copper, the coldness of the floor, and the sound of Ryan’s footsteps walking away.

He had left me there to save his own comfort.