“You were just a pawn to him, the same as me.”

Her face contorted in anger.

For a second, I thought she was going to shoot.

Then, the sound of a distant siren drifted through the wet air.

It was faint, but it was getting closer.

Vivian’s head snapped toward the door.

“You called the police,” she hissed.

“I didn’t have to,” Marco said.

“The silent alarm at St. Catherine’s went off when you were spotted near Elena’s room.”

“They’ve been tracking your vehicle.”

Vivian took another step back, her boots splashing in a puddle of water.

“This isn’t over,” she whispered.

She turned quickly, darting out into the rainy night.

The heavy metal door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing like a gunshot.

Vance let out a loud sob of relief and slumped against the pallets.

“Get him up, Marco,” I said, my voice shaking.

“We need to get to Luke.”

Marco walked over to Vance, grabbing him by the collar of his wet coat.

“Stand up,” Marco ordered.

“You’re coming with us.”

Vance stumbled to his feet, clutching a leather briefcase to his chest.