“Claire, please,” Ethan begged. “I have the address. I know the back roads to get there faster in this rain.”

I looked at Samuel.

Samuel nodded once, very slowly.

“He knows the terrain,” Samuel said. “And we don’t have time to get lost.”

“Fine,” I said, turning my back on Margaret. “But stay out of my way.”

We hurried toward the clinic entrance.

Margaret stood in the center of the lobby, her silhouette tall and rigid against the bright lights.

“You won’t make it in time,” Margaret said behind us.

I didn’t look back.

We pushed through the heavy glass doors into the cold Denver night.

The rain was coming down in sheets now, bouncing off the asphalt of the parking lot.

Ethan’s SUV was parked near the curb, its headlights cutting through the darkness.

“I’ll drive,” Ethan said, pulling his keys from his pocket.

Samuel and I climbed into the back seat, the leather cold against my wet clothes.

Julian got into the passenger seat, his eyes glued to his phone screen.

“The sheriff’s department said they dispatched a deputy, but the roads up the canyon are flooded,” Julian said as Ethan started the engine.