Dr. Chen stepped forward.

“Go,” Dr. Chen said softly. “I will personally supervise Sam’s care for the next two hours. No one gets in this room.”

I hesitated, but the need for answers clawed at my chest.

We left the municipal hospital and drove through the freezing Des Moines sleet.

The streets were slick, the streetlights reflecting off the gray asphalt.

Leo drove in silence, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

We parked outside Melanie’s brick apartment building on the west side of the city.

The lobby smelled of old carpets and cabbage.

Leo did not knock gently; he pounded his fist against Melanie’s door.

Inside, we heard a sudden scuffle, the sound of something plastic hitting the floor.

“Melanie, open the door,” Leo yelled. “I know you’re in there.”

The lock clicked, and the door opened a crack.

Melanie peeked out, her hair messy and her eyes wide with fear.

She wore a faded sweatshirt and held a mug of tea that trembled in her hand.

“Leo, please,” she whispered, looking past him at me. “Mother told me not to talk to you.”