The shadow of two feet blocked the thin strip of yellow light at the bottom of the door.

Liam slid the phone into his pocket and stepped toward the wall, positioning himself beside the heavy wooden frame.

His hand reached into his white coat and pulled out a small, stainless steel reflex hammer.

The door handle jiggled.

It turned slowly, the metal clicking as the latch retracted.

Liam braced his shoulder against the wall, his muscles tense beneath his scrubs.

The door opened two inches, showing a sliver of the dark hallway.

“Claire?” a voice whispered.

It wasn’t Ethan.

It was Nurse Henderson, the night shift supervisor who had helped me with my IV earlier.

She slid into the room, her eyes wide with anxiety as she looked around.

Liam let out a slow breath and lowered his hand, but he didn’t put the steel instrument away.

“Nurse,” Liam said, his voice low. “Who is out there?”

“Two men in gray suits just came through the emergency admitting doors,” she whispered.

“They didn’t check in at the desk. They went straight for the staff elevator.”