Adrian shoved the door closed before it opened more than an inch.

Security arrived seconds later.

The corridor was empty.

Whoever had been there had disappeared.

Hospital power returned.

Vincent demanded discharge.

Dr. Harris refused.

“You are not medically stable.”

“Someone walked into your secure floor.”

“And leaving while injured makes you safer?”

Vincent glared.

I stepped between their arguments.

“Harris is right.”

Vincent looked at me.

“You too?”

“Yes. Because I prefer my patients alive.”

That ended it.

Temporarily.

Evelyn finally gave us the name.

“Martin Shaw.”

Vincent frowned.

“My father's attorney?”

“And partner,” Evelyn said.

“Martin is seventy.”

“And still dangerous.”

Vincent looked toward Adrian.

“Where is he?”

Adrian checked his phone.

“According to public records, Switzerland.”

Evelyn shook her head.

“He isn't.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I saw him three days ago.”

“Where?”

“Chicago.”

Vincent's jaw tightened.

Evelyn explained that she had returned after receiving information that someone was moving money through shell companies connected to Vincent's businesses.

“Why contact me now?”

“Because they shot you.”

“You knew that before the news reported it.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Evelyn hesitated.

“I was watching you.”

Vincent laughed without humor.

“For eleven years?”

“For eleven years.”

“That's supposed to comfort me?”

“No.”

For once, someone wasn't asking him to accept a lie as kindness.

I respected her for that.

Adrian began investigating Martin Shaw.

I stayed with Vincent.

Near dawn, exhaustion finally defeated him.

He slept for forty minutes.

His hand remained open beside mine.

When he woke, he seemed embarrassed.

“You stayed.”

“Yes.”

“You should go home.”

“You said that before.”

“I mean it now.”

“So did you before.”

A faint smile appeared.

Then disappeared.

“Nora.”

“Yes?”

“Why weren't you afraid of me?”

I considered the question.

“I was.”

That surprised him.

“You didn't look afraid.”

“Being afraid and running away aren't the same thing.”

He studied me.

“People have spent years deciding things about me before I enter a room,” I continued. “I know what it feels like to have strangers believe they understand you because of what they see.”

His eyes briefly moved over me.

Not critically.

Understandingly.

“The jokes?”

I shrugged.

“Some people confuse cruelty with humor.”

His expression hardened.

“Names.”

I laughed.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you're recovering, and I'm not giving you a revenge project.”

“I wasn't—”

“You absolutely were.”

That time he really smiled.

For several seconds, Vincent Mercer looked like an ordinary man.

Then Adrian entered.

“We found Martin.”

Vincent's smile vanished.

“Where?”

“Mercer Tower.”

“Why?”

“He's been there for two hours.”

Vincent sat straighter.

“At this hour?”

“He used an old executive access code.”

“What floor?”

Adrian hesitated.

“Thirty-eight.”

Vincent's face changed.

“What?”

I looked between them.

“What is floor thirty-eight?”

Gabriel, who had remained silent near the window, answered.

“Vincent's private archive.”

Vincent looked at Adrian.

“What could Martin want there?”

Evelyn answered.

“Your mother's evidence.”

Vincent immediately threw back the blanket.

I stood.

“No.”

“Nora.”

“You can barely walk.”

“Then help me.”

I stared at him.

“You're serious?”

“He's looking for something my mother died protecting.”

“You need a hospital.”

“And I need the truth.”

Two hours later, after furious arguments and a medically supervised discharge arrangement Vincent somehow managed to negotiate, we entered Mercer Tower through a private underground entrance.

I shouldn't have gone.

I knew that.

But the moment I tried to leave, Vincent's breathing changed.

He didn't ask me to stay.

He didn't have to.

We rode the private elevator to thirty-eight.

The doors opened onto a silent corridor.

Adrian checked the security system.

“No movement.”

Vincent walked slowly beside me.

At the end of the hall stood the archive door.

It was open.

Inside, cabinets had been emptied.

Documents covered the floor.

Evelyn walked toward one wall.

“He knew where to look.”

Vincent frowned.

“For what?”

She pressed a hidden latch.

A narrow panel opened.

Behind it was a safe.

The safe door hung open.

Empty.

Evelyn whispered, “No.”

“What was inside?” Vincent asked.

“Your mother's original files.”

A sound came from behind us.

We turned.

Gabriel stood beside an overturned cabinet.

“What?”

He pointed downward.

“There.”

A second panel was visible beneath the cabinet.

Vincent helped move it.

Behind the panel was a small door none of them seemed to know existed.

Adrian examined the lock.

“It's been opened recently.”

Vincent looked at Evelyn.

“Did my mother know about this?”

“I don't know.”

Then something sounded behind the door.

A phone ringing.

Once.

Twice.

Vincent reached for the handle.

The ringing stopped.

A woman's voice came from inside.

“Nora?”

My blood turned cold.

Because she wasn't calling Vincent's mother.

She was calling me.