He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“Keep the door locked,” he said. “I will be back as soon as I have the files.”

He turned and strode out of the room, his white coat billowing behind him.

I lay alone in the quiet room.

The only sound was the steady drip of the IV.

I watched the clock on the wall.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.

The rain beat a relentless rhythm against the glass.

I thought of Leo and Maya.

I pictured their small faces, safe at my sister’s apartment across town.

They were the only reason I was still breathing.

Suddenly, the handle of my door jiggled.

The lock clicked open.

I sat up, my heart leaping into my throat.

The door swung open slowly.

It was not Ethan.

A tall, older man in a tailored dark suit stepped into the room.

His silver hair was perfectly combed, and his eyes were like chips of gray flint.

It was Richard Harrison.

He closed the door behind him and turned the lock.

“Hannah,” he said, his voice smooth and cold.