Two men in dark suits entered the garden from the Michigan Avenue gate.

They walked slowly, their eyes scanning the benches and the paths.

One of them had his hand inside his coat.

Adrian pulled me back further into the shadow of the stone pillar.

He pressed his back against the cold granite, his breathing shallow.

“Are those his men?” I whispered, my chest tightening.

“Yes,” Adrian said.

He looked down at Noah, who was starting to squirm in his arms.

“Noah, buddy, you have to be very quiet,” Adrian whispered, rubbing the boy’s back. “Like we are playing hide and seek.”

Noah nodded and pressed his face into Adrian’s shoulder.

The footsteps of the two men grew louder as they walked along the gravel path.

They were heading straight toward the reflecting pool.

If they crossed the courtyard, they would see us.

Suddenly, a door at the side of the museum building clicked open.

A woman in a gray wool trench coat stood in the doorway, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun.

She didn’t look at us, but she kept the heavy metal door propped open with her foot.