He slid the pen back into his pocket.

The document followed, disappearing into the silk lining of his coat.

“You have made a very expensive mistake,” Michael said.

He turned on his heel, his leather shoes clicking against the clean tile as he walked toward the exit.

The security guard followed him, his eyes fixed on the floor, refusing to look at me.

The glass doors slid open with a hiss, swallowing them both into the cold night outside.

Mara let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “But he is gone.”

“He will be back,” she said. “Or he will send someone else.”

“I know,” I said.

I walked back toward my office, my legs feeling heavy, as if I were wading through deep water.

The hospital was quiet now, the administrative wing abandoned except for the occasional hum of the ventilation system.

I opened the door to my office and sat down at my desk, staring at the stack of charts waiting for my signature.

None of it seemed to matter.