She adjusted a leather handbag on her shoulder and looked toward the two men in suits.

Adrian’s grip on my hand tightened.

“That’s her,” he whispered.

Adrian squeezed my fingers once, a sharp signal, before letting go.

He adjusted Noah on his hip, his muscles tensing under his dark coat.

“Stay behind me,” he murmured, his voice barely a breath against the cold wind.

I gathered Oliver closer against my chest, his small fingers digging into my collar for warmth.

Lena clung tightly to the fabric of my coat, her little legs moving fast to keep up with my stride.

The gravel under our boots felt incredibly loud in the quiet garden.

To our right, the footsteps of the two men suddenly stopped.

One of them cleared his throat, the sound sharp and grating.

“Over there,” a voice called out from the path near the reflecting pool.

Adrian didn’t look back.

He moved with a swift, calculated grace, keeping his body between us and the path.

We reached the heavy metal door in a matter of seconds.