“Copy.”
Outside, headlights swept the glass.
Two black SUVs rolled under the awning.
Agents in dark jackets and vests stepped into the rain.
A broad, gray-haired man walked through the locked front doors as if they were not there.
Someone had overridden the locks.
He strode down the hall and stopped at the bay, rainwater running off his coat.
His eyes found Lauren.
Something old and heavy passed between them.
“Lauren,” he said quietly.
“Rowan.”
“Four years. You couldn’t call?”
“I’m calling now.”
Hale looked at the men in cuffs.
His expression turned to stone.
“Take them. Every phone, every key, every scrap of paper. Somebody sold that name.”
Then he turned to the room full of stunned doctors.
“For the record,” he said, “this woman holds a commendation from the Secretary of State and a valor citation she never accepted. If any of you wonder who just kept two children alive in your hospital, now you know.”
