Cameras had captured the red carpet–white glove treatment extended to them by the two pilots and flight attendant, as well as the fond farewell hug that the senator and his wife had bestowed on a smiling Violet and her tearfully grateful mother.

The end of the poignant story had shown the Hunts’ jet soaring off the runway into a rainy sky. The two stood arm-in-arm on the tarmac beneath an umbrella, waving until the plane’s blinking lights disappeared into the clouds, which was the fade-out shot that had brought tears to the anchorman’s eyes.

“Violet has more surprises in store,” Abby informed them in a hushed, happy voice. “Elsa from Frozen is scheduled to visit her at home tomorrow. Violet is also going to receive a new iPad, with all her favorite apps already downloaded, and a TV for her bedroom.” She chatted on, unaware of how appalling this was to Brynn.

“Mrs. Hunt is even prettier in person than she is on TV. Her suit was just okay, but her shoes were to die for.”

Before Abby could expand on wardrobe, Rye clasped Brynn’s elbow and said in an undertone, “We need to get out of here.”

Brynn must’ve picked up on his urgency and the reason for it. She said to Abby, “We’re due at a party. I only wanted to stop by and say a quick hi to Violet.”

Rye steered her around, out of the room, and down the hall toward the elevator. She went without protest.

Abby fell into step with them. “As close as you are to Violet and her family, I’m sure they would welcome a call from you. And she’ll be back on Tuesday.”

Tuesday. Days past the GX-42’s expiration.

“Yes,” Brynn said. “Her next radiation treatment is scheduled for Wednesday.” She worried her lower lip. “No matter how streamlined the trip, her autoimmune system is so weakened, I worry about infection. Severe fatigue.”

“I overheard Mrs. Hunt say that the flight crew has the weekend off, but they’ll be flying Violet back. And she’s being safeguarded. Violet’s doctor in Knoxville was put on notice. A medical team supervised by him will be on standby the whole time she’s there. The senator insisted on that. Violet’s welfare is his top priority.”

Brynn and Rye exchanged a look.

“It’s a shame you got here too late to see her off.”

Quietly, Brynn said, “Much too late.”

“I need to get back to work,” Abby said. “Have fun at your party.”

She started back down the hall. Rye watched her until she reentered Violet’s room. As they drew abreast of the elevator, he noticed that the ground floor button was lighted, indicating that someone had summoned it. It could have been anybody. But the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he trusted that instinct. He wheeled Brynn around. “Hurry.”

She reacted without question as he towed her toward the fire stairs and rushed her down them. When they reached the first floor, he opened the door a crack. No one was at the elevator or in the corridor. The guard was still hunched over the television, his back to them. “Is there another way out?”

“An emergency exit on the other side of the building.”

“Will an alarm go off if we open it?”

“I have the code to disarm it.”

“Lead the way.”

They slipped through the door without drawing the guard’s notice and walked as rapidly and as silently as they could. Rye continued looking over his shoulder, checking the fire stairs door they had just come through. His ears were attuned for the ping that would signal the arrival of the elevator.

They rounded a corner at an intersection of hallways. The emergency exit was at the far end of one. He and Brynn jogged toward it. Brynn punched in the code on the keypad, and a lock released with a loud metallic click. No alarm blared when Rye depressed the metal bar and pushed open the heavy door.

He ushered Brynn out ahead of him and, after one last look behind him, followed her. He waited only long enough to hear the reassuring click of the door relocking, then grabbed her hand and took off in a dead run.

8:18 p.m.

Abby emerged from Violet’s room with her arms full of bedding, but drew up short in fright. A tall man was standing just beyond the door. “Mercy, you startled me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to.”

“Can I help you? Only family is allowed—”

“Oh, I know. The guard said. But I’m Dr. Lambert’s driver tonight. He didn’t want to get out of the car in the rain, so he sent me in to see if Dr. O’Neal was here. He needs to consult with her about a patient. Sure enough, when I asked the guard, he told me she came in not long ago.”

“She was here. You just missed her.”

“By how much?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t meet them in the elevator.”

“Them?”

“I guess he was her date. They were on their way to a party. If it’s an emergency, I can call her and tell her to come back. I have her number.”

“That’s the problem. Dr. Lambert has been calling her phone for over an hour. He thinks it must be on the fritz.” He held up a slip of paper with a telephone number handwritten on it. “Is this the number you have for her?”

She pulled her phone from the pocket of her tunic and accessed her contacts. “That’s it.”