The guards nodded and moved into the shadows of the hallway.

Rowan stood up, leaning heavily against the reception desk for support.

He looked at the silver key in my hand.

“Where did you get that?” he asked.

“It was in the envelope,” I said. “With a note.”

Rowan took the key, his fingers shaking slightly as he examined the teeth.

“This is the key to Tessa’s private vault in the medical compound,” he said.

“The one where she kept the original birth records,” he added. “And the surrogacy contracts.”

“She thinks you are dead,” I said.

“Let her think that,” Rowan said, a cold look returning to his eyes. “It gives us the only advantage we have left.”

Marcus pointed his flashlight down the hallway. “We need to get the twins and get to the transport.”

“The rain is washing out the secondary roads,” Marcus warned.

I carried Clara down the dark corridor, Rowan limping beside me.

Our wet footsteps echoed in the empty clinic.

We reached the secure room at the back of the facility.

Inside, two armed guards stood by the door, their rifles lowered but ready.