Her face was pale under the harsh fluorescent lights, but her chin was up.

She adjusted the collar of her dark wool coat, her fingers still trembling slightly.

“Let us go,” she said.

We walked out of the room and down the quiet corridor.

Our shoes clicked sharply against the polished grey linoleum.

The smell of antiseptic and floor wax was thick in the air.

Dr. Shah met us near the elevator bank.

He looked at Claire, then at me, his expression grave.

“There are at least twelve news crews in the lobby,” Dr. Shah said.

“The hospital security team has set up a barrier, but it is crowded.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I said.

“We are not going to hide.”

The elevator doors opened with a soft electronic chime.

We stepped inside, and Arthur followed us, holding his leather briefcase tight against his chest.

The mirror on the elevator wall showed the three of us standing shoulder to shoulder.

I looked at Claire’s reflection.

She looked small in her coat, but there was a fierce, quiet light in her eyes.

The elevator descended to the ground floor.