“State Police,” a voice boomed back. “Open the door immediately.”

“I need to see identification,” Liam said.

“We have an active warrant for Claire Vance. Unlock the door, or we will breach it.”

Liam looked back at me over his shoulder.

His face was pale under the harsh fluorescent lights of the laundry room.

He pointed toward the back exit of the room, a small metal door that led to the basement loading dock.

“Go,” he whispered. “I’ll stall them as long as I can.”

I looked at the heavy door, then down at my hands.

My fingers were still trembling from the shock of the news.

But the cold, analytical part of my brain was already spinning.

If I ran now, I would be a fugitive.

Ethan would win, Vance would keep his power, and Liam’s career would be permanently destroyed.

“No,” I whispered.

“Claire, they will put you in a cell,” Liam said, his voice urgent.

“They have to catch me first,” I said. “And they can’t do that if I cut off their oxygen.”

I grabbed my bag from the metal desk.