“It’s dangerous, Natalie. You’re seven months pregnant.”

“I want this over,” I said.

“I want my life back, and I want my child to be safe.”

He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the city.

Outside, the gray Los Angeles drizzle was beginning to smear the glass.

“I have to clear this with the District Director,” Harris said.

“If we do this, my team controls the entire perimeter.”

“No one gets near you without my say-so.”

“Understood,” I said.

He left the room to make the call.

I sat alone in the cold office, staring at the empty chairs.

The clock on the wall ticked.

Exactly fifty-two minutes had passed since Julian hung up.

My personal phone buzzed in my bag on the floor.

It was a restricted number.

I picked it up on the second ring, holding it tight to my ear.

“Julian?” I whispered.

“Do you have the access?” his voice was hurried, muffled by the sound of wind.

“I talked to my contact,” I said.

“They’re working on the codes, but it takes time.”

“I don’t have time, Natalie!” he hissed.