“I’m releasing the magnetic locks on the clinic now,” Marcus said. “You have sixty seconds before the backup system re-boots the primary firewalls.”

I ran out of the lab.

The air in the hallway felt even colder now.

I reached the double steel doors.

The small green light above the door handle was blinking.

I pushed the doors open.

The ward inside was dark.

The only light came from the small screens of medical monitors.

The steady, slow beep of a heart rate monitor echoed in the quiet space.

I walked down the central aisle.

On either side were small rooms with glass walls.

Most of them were empty.

The beds were bare, the sheets folded neatly.

I moved deeper into the clinic.

My heart was pounding in my chest.

“Rowan,” Marcus said. “I see a power spike in the pediatric unit.”

“Where?” I asked.

“Room four,” he said. “At the very back.”

I walked toward the back of the ward.

The air smelled of baby powder and sterile metal.

I reached the door of room four.

I looked through the glass.