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Each time she exhaled orange light, it absorbed a tiny spot of the vast darkness surrounding Hannah.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Her legs grew sluggish, and her heartbeat fluttered.
A thud, like a hammer striking a pillow, sounded behind her. What was it? Why was she so cold?
“Brian, I’m on my way out the door. What is it?”
Tristan shrugged on his jacket and grabbed his car keys. He’d made up his mind to follow Lillian and make sure she got on her flight, and then he’d come home and pour himself a tall glass of something strong. With any luck, he’d pass out by midnight and no longer feel her departure so intensely…or anything else for that matter.
“We’ve been watching the hospital like you asked, keeping a close eye on the buildings. A few minutes ago, one of my guys spotted two men lingering at a restricted entrance.”
Beads of sweat formed on Tristan’s brow, and his heartbeat broke into a gallop. He headed to his car, walking fast. “They’re going after Hannah?”
“We don’t know that. They didn’t go inside and left after a few minutes. It could be nothing. But you asked us to report anything out of the ordinary.”
He took a moment to calm himself. “That’s right. Good work, Brian. Keep a close watch and alert the hospital’s security. Call me if they return. Lillian headed to the airport a few minutes ago, and I’m following her to make sure she gets on her flight safely.”
“Hold on…something’s up.”
There was a long pause, and he could hear Brian talking to someone in the background. Tristan used the time to get into the vehicle and start the car, stepping on the accelerator and pulling out with a squeal of tires. If he floored it, he might be able to catch Lillian.
“Change of plans. Don’t go to the airport. Lillian was just spotted pulling into the Clinic parking lot.”
“The hospital?” Tristan frowned. “Something must be wrong with her sister. I’m on my way over now.” Tristan headed north instead of south.
“She’s going inside. Do you want us to stop her?”
Tristan thought a moment. If Hannah was ill again, Lillian might need to cure her. She’d never forgive him if he prevented her from trying. “No, but tail her and make sure no one else follows. Wait for me inside. I’m about ten minutes away.”
“Roger that.”
Tristan ended the call and sped up, passing the slower-moving vehicles in the other lane. His gut churned like a worn-out washing machine. Was Lillian all right? Had he put her in more danger, as she’d accused, by telling his friend at the FBI what he suspected? He turned left and headed down Chester Avenue toward the North Side Clinic, his heart pounding all the while. Could the men Brian spotted belong to Kinetica? Had they been tipped off by the FBI?
The light from Chester to East 93rdStreet seemed to take forever. Tristan tapped the steering wheel and tried to keep his breathing in check. When the light changed, he navigated the turn and pressed on the accelerator, zipping down the street at warp speed.
The minute he turned into the hospital lot, he slammed the car into park and was out the door, running toward the entrance. All the while, his footsteps hammered out a frantic rhythm that seemed to keep time with the blood pounding through his body. What was happening in Hannah’s room? Had Lillian cured her sister?
He moved through the sliding doors, run-walking as fast as he could, watching for Brian’s crew. When he didn’t find them inside, he hurried to the elevator and rode it to Hannah’s floor. The doors opened, and he stepped out and looked around. A woman dressed in a white lab coat passed by, followed by a man in blue scrubs. Everything appeared normal. Where were the men Brian said would meet him?
He didn’t spend time looking, preferring to make his way as fast as he could to Hannah’s room. He’d verify for himself that Lillian, Hannah, and their dad were inside safe. Some instinct made him pause before entering the room.
A woman screamed.
He didn’t hesitate, pushing the door open and rushing into the room, prepared for a fight. What he saw was a horrible dream come to life. Frank Milano was slumped on a chair, blood oozing from a nasty wound on his forehead. Next to him, a nurse lay crumpled on the floor in a pool of blood. Hannah Milano was sitting up in the bed, her eyes wide with terror, and Lillian was missing.
ChapterTwenty-three
“Dad, are you okay? Dad? Tristan, help him!” Hannah Milano sat up in bed and pointed at her father in horror.
Tristan crouched by Frank to check his pulse. The regular beat reassured him the man was very much alive. “It’s okay. He’s just been knocked unconscious.”
On cue, Frank groaned and lifted his head.
