My phone was vibrating against the hard drive.

The persistent hum felt incredibly loud in the silence.

I reached in and pulled it out, the screen glowing intensely in the dark.

It was an incoming text message from an unknown number.

I tapped the screen, my hand shaking.

The message read: *The warrant was dismissed. Ethan is coming for his book.*

Beneath the text was an image file.

I clicked it, and my breath caught.

It was a live photograph of the hospital’s lobby security feed, showing three men in tactical gear walking past the empty security desk.

At the back of the group was a familiar figure in a dark wool coat.

It was Ethan, his face pale and furious, looking directly up at the security camera.

Just then, the bathroom door we had just locked began to rattle.

Liam grabbed my wrist.

“Now,” he whispered.

The brass doorknob of the bathroom door twisted violently.

Metal scraped against the lock.

Liam pulled me through the secondary door into the empty patient room, shutting it softly behind us.

We stepped into the sterile, dimly lit corridor of the east wing.