But on the Friday morning that Ellwood was meant to sign, Chandler came into the room at dawn holding an official-looking medical order, and there was a smile on his face that Adaira could feel even without seeing it.

“Today it all ends, Adaira,” he said softly to the motionless bed.

And Sam was not in the room.

For the first time since the night she’d heard the truth, something close to real terror moved through her.

Every part of her plan, every recording, every hope of rescue had quietly depended on the presence of a small boy with a device in his backpack.

If they meant to do it now, this morning, before the boy arrived — if the room stayed empty of the one witness who believed in her — then all her patience, all her listening, all her careful building in the dark would come to nothing.