“Where?” she asked.

“To find your father,” I said.

We walked out into the dark hallway, the thin beam of my flashlight guiding our steps.

The air was cold, the heat in the hospital seemingly shut off along with the power.

We reached the exit stairwell, the heavy steel door cold to the touch.

I pushed it open and looked down into the dark concrete stairwell.

A faint sound of dripping water came from somewhere below.

“Evelyn,” Lauren whispered, holding my hand tighter. “I’m scared.”

“I know, sweetie,” I said. “Just keep your eyes on the light.”

We began our descent into the dark basement of St. Anne’s.

Every step seemed to echo on the concrete walls.

The wind outside howled against the brick exterior, a relentless Chicago winter that showed no mercy.

We reached the landing for the first floor, but the door was locked from the other side.

The only way was down, deeper into the utility levels and the parking garage.

My flashlight beam flickered, the battery dying from the cold.

I tapped it against my palm, the light returning but dimmer than before.