“He is still moving, Maren,” Marcus said, not looking up. “But the blue dots are getting closer to him.”

“Can we send backup?” I asked.

“If we leave this facility, we leave you and the boys unprotected,” Marcus said. “Rowan’s orders were clear. We hold this position.”

I pulled my knees to my chest, my wet clothes sticking to my skin.

I looked at the empty crib we had prepared for Clara.

It had a pink blanket, freshly washed, waiting for her.

The door to the ward suddenly clicked.

I jumped to my feet, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The handle turned slowly.

Marcus raised his sidearm, stepping in front of the cribs.

The door pushed open.

A nurse walked in, her face tight with worry.

“Dr. Evans needs you in the lobby,” she said to Marcus. “Now.”

“Why?” Marcus asked, keeping his weapon raised.

“Someone is at the front gate,” the nurse whispered. “But it is not Rowan.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“Who is it?” I asked, taking a step forward.

The nurse looked at me, her eyes filled with fear.