Next to his name was a status code in bright red letters.

The screen flickered as Marcus tried to open the document attached to my father’s name.

A loading circle spun in the center of the screen, the laptop’s fan whirring loudly in the silent, frozen room.

Suddenly, the headlights of a car swept across the frosted windows of the office, illuminating the glass with a brilliant, blinding glare.

Outside, the sound of a heavy engine idling in the snow echoed through the walls.

Charles pulled me down by the arm, forcing me behind the heavy oak desk.

Marcus ducked beside us, pulling his winter coat over the glowing laptop screen to block the light.

The car engine outside growled, a deep, rhythmic throb that vibrated through the floorboards.

“Is it Trevor?” I whispered, my chest tightening.

“I don’t know,” Charles said, his voice a low, steady murmur near my ear. “Do not move.”

The headlights cut through the frosted window panes, casting long, pale rectangles of light across the ceiling.

They swept slowly from left to right, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the freezing air of the office.