He was reaching into the SUV for another bag when he heard my footsteps.

He spun around, his face pale and slick with sweat.

His eyes widened when he saw me standing there in the rain.

“Evelyn?” he gasped, his voice cracking.

“What are you doing here?”

Marjorie turned, her face twisting into a sneer of pure hatred.

“What is she doing here, Nolan?” she demanded, grabbing his arm.

“We don’t have time for this.”

“The pilot says the flight plan is cleared.”

“We need to go now.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Nolan,” I said, stopping ten feet from him.

The rain was coming down harder now, soaking through my coat.

“The secondary accounts are frozen,” I said.

“The custody order is recognized as a forgery.”

“The police at the hospital have been recalled.”

Nolan stared at me, his mouth slightly open.

“How did you—” he started, then stopped.

He looked past me toward the black sedan parked near the entrance.

Through the windshield, he could see Sloane sitting in the passenger seat.

Her face was illuminated by the glow of her laptop.