Charles handed the phone back to me and pulled out his own.

“They think the data was only on that physical machine,” Charles said. “They don’t know how I run my businesses.”

He made a quick call, speaking in low, urgent tones to someone named Marcus.

“Marcus is my lead network analyst,” Charles said, hanging up. “He is already in the city, waiting at my hotel.”

“But the computer is gone, Charles,” I said, leaning against the cold tiled wall. “How can he get anything without the hard drive?”

“The Crystal Oak uses a localized backup system,” Charles explained. “Every transaction and every keystroke is mirrored to a secondary drive hidden in the building.”

He looked at me, his eyes steady and determined.

“It’s a security standard I insisted on when I invested in the restaurant,” he added. “Trevor didn’t even know it existed.”

We walked quickly down the hall, past the silent nurse’s station, and took the elevator to the lobby.

The wind outside the hospital glass doors was howling, throwing sheets of white ice against the entry.