We stepped back out into the hallway, the sterile air feeling colder than before.

Charles called the hospital security to post a guard outside my mother’s door.

As we walked back toward the elevator, my phone vibrated in my palm again.

I pulled it out, expecting another security alert.

Instead, it was a text from an unknown number.

I tapped the screen to open the message.

An image loaded slowly, pixel by pixel, through the weak cellular signal.

It was a photograph of the Crystal Oak back office.

The desk drawer was smashed open, and the computer tower was completely missing.

Below the photo, a single line of text appeared.

*You’re too late, Emily.*

I stared at the image on my screen, my thumb hovering over the cold glass.

“They took the tower,” I said, my voice barely a whisper in the quiet hospital corridor.

Charles took the phone from my hand and squinted at the photo.

“Trevor’s office,” he said, his face hardening. “Someone got there before us.”

“He knew I had the keys,” I said. “He knew I was coming back.”