I pulled the metal grate back just enough to slip my hand inside.

It was dusty and dark.

I shoved the vial deep into the metal duct, pushing it past the bend.

“One minute, Cameron,” Frank called out, knocking loudly on the door.

My heart leaped into my throat.

I quickly pushed the grate back into place and tightened the screw as much as I could.

My fingers were covered in gray dust.

I washed my hands quickly at the sink, drying them on a paper towel.

I unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway.

“All clear,” I said.

Frank nodded and led me back to the living room.

Mrs. Higgins and Silvio were already sitting on the leather sofa, looking tense.

Matteo was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the rainy Manhattan skyline.

The sky was a dark, bruising purple.

Two security guards walked past us toward the staff hallway, carrying flashlights.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The vial in the bathroom vent was safe for now.

But the jar of poisoned tea was still under my mattress.