“Good,” Alexander said. “We use that. We move her to a private clinic outside the city.”

“We need to hurry,” I said.

I pulled my coat tight and reached into my pocket for my personal burner phone.

It was a cheap, prepaid device I kept for emergencies.

As my fingers brushed the plastic casing, the phone began to vibrate.

A low, steady hum in my hand.

I pulled it out, my thumb trembling as I looked at the small screen.

An unknown number had sent a text message.

I tapped the button to open it.

The message was brief.

*I see you, Clara.*

I froze, the air leaving my lungs in a cold rush.

“Alexander,” I whispered.

“What is it?” he asked, looking over my shoulder.

I held up the phone so he could see the text.

Before he could answer, a second notification popped up at the top of the screen.

It was an automated security alert from my personal email provider.

*New login detected from a new device. Location: Midtown Manhattan.*

They were not just looking for us on the streets.