Vincent knew something was wrong before Mara said a word.

Her face had gone white.

Not pale.

White.

The photograph trembled between her fingers.

"Give it to me."

Mara didn't move.

Vincent held out his hand.

"Mara."

She crossed the room and placed the photograph in his palm.

The change in him was immediate.

Whatever weakness had been visible seconds earlier disappeared.

His eyes moved over Ethan's sleeping face, the hospital bed, the IV pole, the partially open door.

Then he turned the photograph over.

WALK AWAY.

OR HE DIES FIRST.

Vincent read it twice.

His expression became terrifyingly calm.

"Tony."

Mara grabbed his wrist.

"No."

He looked at her hand.

"What?"

"You don't call anyone yet."

Vincent's eyes lifted to hers.

"Someone photographed your brother inside a hospital and delivered the picture to my bedroom."

"Exactly."

"And you think we're going to sit here?"

"I think whoever did this is inside the house."

Vincent said nothing.

Mara pointed at the envelope.

"They knew where Ethan was. They knew which room was mine. They knew when I'd be in here with you."

"You think Tony—"

"No."

"Rebecca?"

"I don't know."

"Then we start finding out."

Vincent reached for the bedside phone.

Mara took it first.

His expression darkened.

"You're developing a dangerous habit."

"So are you."

"What habit?"

"Thinking everyone moves when you give an order."

"They usually do."

"I'm beginning to understand why six nurses quit."

He almost smiled.

Almost.

Then his gaze returned to Ethan's photograph.

The amusement vanished.

"Who knows which hospital he's in?"

"Half the staff at Lakeview knows he transferred to Midwest Cancer Institute."

"Room number?"

"Samantha. His oncologist. Me."

"Anyone here?"

Mara hesitated.

"Tony saw the bill."

"And me."

"And whoever went through my room."

Vincent's jaw tightened.

"Your room was searched?"

"The medical documents were moved."

"When?"

"I thought housekeeping did it."

"You thought wrong."

Mara hated the certainty in his voice.

Vincent extended his hand.

"Phone."

"No."

"Mara."

She stared at him.

"You can't even walk to the door."

Silence.

She regretted the words immediately.

Vincent's face closed.

Mara exhaled.

"That came out wrong."

"No. It didn't."

"Vincent—"

"Give me the phone."

His voice was quieter now.

She handed it to him.

He called Tony.

"Lock the house down."

Mara's head snapped up.

Vincent continued.

"No one leaves. No one comes in. I want every camera from this hallway and the staff wing reviewed from midnight until now."

A pause.

"And find out who has been inside Mara's room."

He hung up.

Mara stared at him.

"You just trapped the person who threatened Ethan inside the house."

"That's the idea."

"And if they panic?"

"Then they make a mistake."

"And if that mistake hurts my brother?"

Vincent looked at the photograph again.

"They won't get another chance."

Mara didn't like how easily he said it.

But she believed him.

That frightened her more.

---

By afternoon, the estate had changed.

Security doubled at every entrance.

Staff members were questioned one at a time.

Tony personally reviewed camera footage.

No one found anything.

The envelope had somehow appeared outside Vincent's door during a four-minute gap when a hallway camera rebooted.

Mara didn't believe in coincidences anymore.

She spent most of the afternoon trying to reach Samantha through the secure house phone.

Ethan was fine.

No unexplained visitors.

No new incidents.

That should have calmed her.

It didn't.

At five, she returned to Vincent's room.

The curtains were open six inches.

Exactly where she'd left them.

Vincent was staring through the narrow gap.

"Any news?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"That's good."

"No. Nothing is not good. Nothing means I don't know where the threat is."

Vincent looked at her.

"Come here."

"I'm not a dog."

"Do you argue with every sentence?"

"Only yours."

"Mara."

She approached.

He handed her a tablet.

On the screen was a photograph of Ethan.

Not the threatening one.

A security photograph.

Two men in dark suits stood outside his hospital room.

Mara looked up sharply.

"What did you do?"

"Made sure nobody gets near him again."

"You put armed guards outside my brother's room?"

"Yes."

"You can't just—"

"I can."

"I didn't ask you to."

"No."

Her anger rose.

"You don't get to take control of my life because someone threatened me."

"I'm not controlling your life."

"You moved security into Ethan's hospital."

"I'm keeping him alive."

"That's my job."

Vincent's expression changed.

"No."

The single word stopped her.

He leaned back against the headboard.

"Your job is keeping me alive."

Mara stared at him.

"Let me handle your brother."

"Why?"

He didn't answer.

"Why, Vincent?"

His jaw tightened.

"You know why."

"No. I don't."

He looked away.

Mara suddenly understood that he didn't know how to say it.

This man could order an estate locked down without raising his voice.

He could make armed men appear outside a hospital room within an hour.

But saying he cared?

Apparently impossible.

Mara took the tablet.

"Thank you."

His eyes returned to hers.

"Don't make it sentimental."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She set the tablet down.

"Now stand up."

Vincent stared at her.

"You just thanked me."

"Moment's over."

---

He stood for thirty-four seconds.

The longest yet.

The next attempt lasted forty-one.

On the third, Mara felt something change.

"Shift your weight."

"I am."

"More."

"My leg isn't ready."

"Your leg is. Your head isn't."

Vincent glared down at her.

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"Take one step and I'll consider it."

He looked at the floor.

Mara had one arm around his waist.

His hand rested on her shoulder.

The wheelchair waited behind him.

"Don't look at the whole room," she said.

"I'm not."

"Look at me."

He did.

"One step."

Vincent's right foot moved.

Barely.

An inch.

Then another.

His knee shook violently.

Mara tightened her hold.

"Again."

His foot slid forward.

Not a clean step.

Not graceful.

But movement.

Real movement.

Vincent froze.

Mara felt his heartbeat against her palm.

"You did it."

He looked down.

His right foot was ahead of his left.

For a moment, Vincent DeLuca looked almost stunned.

Then his knee buckled.

Mara caught him and guided him into the wheelchair.

He was breathing hard.

She crouched in front of him.

"Vincent."

He stared at his leg.

"Hey."

His eyes lifted.

Mara smiled.

"You took a step."

He didn't smile back.

But his eyes changed.

"Again."

"Tomorrow."

"Now."

"You'll tear something."

"I said again."

"And I'm the medical professional."

He looked toward the sunlight cutting through the curtains.

"Tomorrow, then."

Mara stood.

"Tomorrow."

That night, after Vincent fell asleep, Mara opened the curtains another inch.

He didn't object.

---

Two days later, Vincent asked her about Elena.

Not directly.

He never did anything directly when it involved emotion.

"What did your mother do?"

Mara looked up from his chart.

"My mother?"

"You know mine planted roses."

"Your attempt at conversation is unsettling."

"Forget it."

Mara smiled.

"She taught second grade."

Vincent waited.

"She died when Ethan was twelve."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"What happened?"

"Car accident."

Vincent's face softened.

Mara sat in the leather chair.

"After that, Ethan became mine."

"He had a father."

"Technically."

Vincent understood the word.

"He left?"

"Eventually."

Mara looked toward the window.

"I was twenty. I dropped out of college for a year, worked nights, got custody when Dad disappeared, then went back for nursing."

"And now you're paying for Ethan's treatment."

"Trying."

Vincent was silent.

"You're very good at taking care of everyone," he said.

Mara looked at him.

It didn't sound like a compliment.

"Occupational hazard."

"Who takes care of you?"

The question landed harder than it should have.

Mara looked away.

"No one needs to."

"That's not what I asked."

Before she could answer, Tony knocked.

He entered holding a small plastic evidence bag.

Inside was a black flash drive.

"Found it behind the hallway camera."

Vincent's expression hardened.

"What is it?"

"Device was forcing the camera to reboot on a loop."

Mara stood.

"So someone deliberately created the gap."

Tony nodded.

"And there's more."

He looked at Vincent.

"The device is military-grade."

Vincent's face became unreadable.

"How many people in this house could get one?"

Tony answered quietly.

"More than I'd like."

Mara looked from one man to the other.

The threat wasn't outside the gates.

It wasn't a stranger watching from the trees.

Someone inside the DeLuca estate had photographed Ethan.

Someone inside had tampered with Vincent's medication.

And now they knew exactly how to blind the security system.

Vincent looked at Mara.

"From now on, you don't go anywhere alone."

She opened her mouth.

"No argument."

"That's adorable."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

He leaned closer.

"If they can't get to me, they'll use you."

Mara's smile disappeared.

Vincent's voice lowered.

"And I won't let them."

For once, she had no answer.

---

That night, someone stood outside Vincent's door.

Through the narrow opening, they watched Mara help him rise from the wheelchair.

Watched Vincent place both feet on the floor.

Watched him stand.

And watched him take a second step.

The figure backed silently away.

A phone appeared in one gloved hand.

One message was typed.

HE'S WALKING.

The reply arrived almost immediately.

THEN WE'RE OUT OF TIME.