“If they find you here with these papers, they will make sure you don’t talk,” he said.

“Your life, and Emma’s life, depend on staying out of sight for the next hour.”

I looked into his eyes and saw the absolute truth in them.

“Margaret,” Julian said. “Go. Now.”

Margaret nodded and walked into the room, gently lifting Emma from the bed.

Emma groaned softly, her eyes fluttering open for a second before she buried her face in Margaret’s shoulder.

“Come, Claire,” Margaret said, her voice unusually gentle.

I followed her out of the room, my legs feeling like lead.

As we reached the top of the grand staircase, the sound of tires crunching on gravel drifted up from below.

Through the tall glass of the front doors, red and blue lights began to flash against the snow.

Margaret’s hand was steady on Emma’s back.

We hurried down the back staircase, the narrow wooden steps creaking under our weight.

The air grew colder with every flight we descended.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

“Watch your step,” Margaret whispered.