The first message came at 8:12 the next morning.

Mara found it inside her scrub pocket.

She had put the uniform on twenty minutes earlier.

The folded paper had not been there the night before.

She opened it beneath the bathroom light.

WE KNOW WHERE HE IS.

Mara's hands went cold.

A second line:

TONIGHT. 9:00 P.M. SERVICE HALLWAY.

COME ALONE.

She crushed the note.

Then forced herself to smooth it again.

Think.

Don't panic.

Think.

Someone had access to her room.

Someone had access to staff uniforms.

Someone knew Ethan's new location.

And whoever it was knew exactly how to make her obey.

At 8:30, she entered Vincent's bedroom.

He was sitting near the window.

The curtains were open halfway now.

He looked up.

"You're late."

"Eight minutes."

"Late."

"Fire me."

"Tempting."

Mara checked his vitals.

Her hands were steady.

Years of nursing had taught her how to function while terrified.

Vincent watched her.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"Blood pressure's good."

"Mara."

"Temperature normal."

He caught her wrist.

Not painfully.

"Look at me."

She did.

His eyes narrowed.

"What happened?"

For one dangerous second, she almost told him.

Then she saw Ethan in her mind.

The photograph.

The stolen records.

No.

"I didn't sleep."

Vincent released her slowly.

"You look afraid."

"I'm tired."

"I know the difference."

That irritated her because it echoed their first night.

Mara picked up the medication tray.

"Take these."

Vincent continued watching her.

But he swallowed the pills.

Trust.

That was the worst part.

He trusted her now.

---

At nine that night, Mara entered the service hallway alone.

The corridor ran behind the kitchen and laundry rooms.

No cameras.

Staff used it to move supplies without crossing the formal rooms.

The lights flickered.

Mara stopped.

"Hello?"

A voice came from behind her.

"Don't turn around."

Male.

Distorted somehow.

Mara froze.

"You have my brother's records."

"Yes."

"If you touch him—"

"You're in no position to threaten anyone."

Her hands curled into fists.

"What do you want?"

Something landed on the floor beside her.

A small medical case.

"Open it."

Mara crouched.

Inside was a sealed vial.

No pharmacy label.

No patient name.

Nothing.

Her stomach turned.

"No."

"You haven't heard the instructions."

"I don't need to."

"Tomorrow morning, Vincent DeLuca gets that instead of his scheduled medication."

Mara stared at the vial.

"No."

"Then your brother's protective floor stops being protective."

Mara stood.

"Who are you?"

"Someone who knows Vincent better than you ever will."

"Then you should know he'll find you."

A quiet laugh.

"He can't even walk."

Mara said nothing.

Thank God.

They didn't know.

Or at least this person didn't.

"Tomorrow," the voice continued. "Eight a.m."

"What is it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Enough to solve your problem."

Mara's blood turned cold.

"You want me to kill him."

Silence.

That was answer enough.

"I won't."

"Then start planning Ethan's funeral."

Footsteps retreated.

Mara spun around.

The hallway was empty.

A service door at the far end swung slowly shut.

She ran.

By the time she reached it, there was no one outside.

Only snow.

And darkness.

---

Mara didn't sleep.

At 7:55 the next morning, she stood at Vincent's medication cart.

The vial was in her pocket.

Her fingers felt numb.

She had spent the night considering every option.

Tell Tony.

Tell Rebecca.

Call Cole Harris.

Run.

Take Ethan and disappear.

But whoever was inside the estate had already penetrated one hospital and obtained the address of the second.

Running wouldn't solve it.

At eight, Mara entered Vincent's room.

He was awake.

"Morning."

She couldn't answer.

His eyes sharpened.

"Mara."

She set the tray down.

"How's your pain?"

"Three."

"Any numbness?"

"No."

"Headache?"

"No."

He watched her prepare the syringe.

Mara's hands shook.

Vincent noticed.

"Stop."

She froze.

"What?"

"Put it down."

"Why?"

"Because you're shaking."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

Mara looked at the syringe.

The vial in her pocket felt like a stone.

Vincent extended his arm.

"If you're going to stab me, at least pretend you know what you're doing."

A week ago, he would have watched every movement.

Questioned every drug.

Refused half of them.

Now he simply gave her his arm.

Because he trusted her.

Mara stared at the vein beneath his skin.

She couldn't breathe.

"Mara?"

She put the syringe down.

Then reached into her pocket.

Vincent's face changed when she removed the unlabeled vial.

"What is that?"

Mara walked to the sink.

She opened it.

And poured every drop down the drain.

Vincent was out of the chair before she realized what he was doing.

Two unsteady steps.

His hand caught the counter.

"What the hell was that?"

Mara turned.

"They threatened Ethan."

Everything in Vincent went still.

She told him.

The stolen records.

The note.

The service hallway.

The vial.

All of it.

When she finished, Vincent didn't shout.

Didn't curse.

That frightened her.

"Why didn't you tell me last night?"

"Because they have Ethan's location."

"So?"

"So he's my brother!"

"And you thought injecting me with an unknown drug was safer?"

"I didn't inject you!"

"I know."

His voice softened.

That somehow made it worse.

"I know."

Mara's eyes burned.

"I didn't know what to do."

Vincent stared at her.

For the first time since she'd met him, Mara let him see her afraid.

Really afraid.

Not tired.

Not sarcastic.

Not angry.

Terrified.

"I can't lose him."

Vincent crossed the remaining distance between them.

His walking was ugly.

Unsteady.

Painful.

But he did it.

He stopped in front of her.

"You won't."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes."

"No, Vincent."

His hands closed around her shoulders.

"You won't lose him."

"How?"

His eyes became cold.

"We stop waiting for them."

---

The plan was simple.

Which meant Mara hated it.

At 10:00 a.m., Rebecca arrived.

At 10:17, Tony ran through the hallway shouting for emergency equipment.

At 10:20, two guards carried an oxygen tank upstairs.

At 10:31, Rebecca called a private ambulance.

At 10:42, the estate staff began whispering.

Vincent DeLuca had collapsed.

His condition was critical.

Possible respiratory failure.

By noon, the story had changed.

He might not survive the day.

By four, someone leaked it beyond the gates.

Tony showed Mara a text intercepted from one of the staff phones.

DELUCA MAY NOT MAKE IT THROUGH THE NIGHT.

"Too fast," Mara said.

"Exactly," Tony replied.

Vincent was lying in bed with oxygen tubing beneath his nose.

He looked irritated.

"I hate this."

Mara adjusted the monitor.

"You look convincing."

"I look dead."

"That's the goal."

"Comforting."

Rebecca checked the fake readings displayed on a secondary monitor.

"Whoever comes in here will think he's heavily sedated."

"And then?" Mara asked.

Vincent looked at Tony.

"We see what they do."

Mara hated that answer too.

---

At 11:47 p.m., the estate went quiet.

Rebecca left visibly at ten.

Tony made a show of sending half the security team downstairs.

Mara turned off the bedside lamp.

Vincent lay motionless.

His breathing was deliberately slow.

Mara hid behind the heavy curtain near the far wall.

For the first time, she appreciated the damn thing.

11:58.

Nothing.

12:06.

Nothing.

12:14.

Mara's legs began to ache.

12:19.

The bedroom door moved.

One inch.

Then two.

Someone slipped inside.

Black clothing.

Gloves.

No flashlight.

They knew the room.

The figure closed the door without making a sound.

Mara held her breath.

The person approached Vincent's bed.

One hand disappeared inside a coat.

Mara's heart hammered.

The figure removed a syringe.

Vincent didn't move.

The stranger leaned over him.

Mara stepped out.

"Don't."

The figure spun.

Moonlight crossed his face.

Mara froze.

She knew him.

She had seen him at dinner.

Seen his photograph in the library.

Vincent's cousin.

Nico DeLuca.

Nico stared at Mara.

Then at Vincent.

The syringe was still in his hand.

Mara's voice came out barely above a whisper.

"Nico?"

Behind him, Vincent opened his eyes.

And said:

"What the hell are you doing in my room?"