They had spent the whole summer acting careful. My mother clipped coupons in front of me and sighed over grocery prices. My father shook his head when I suggested one quiet weekend away together, like I had asked him to buy a second house instead of share a motel room and a diner breakfast. “This summer we’re staying in,” Mom told me. “It’s just too much.” I believed her because believing them had become a reflex, even after years of little disappointments. They knew I kept one reserve account for emergencies, and they knew my health was the reason I guarded it like oxygen. At 3:08 in the morning, my phone buzzed hard enough to wake me. The notification said $9,860 had been withdrawn from my reserve fund. I sat up so fast the room tilted, opened the banking app, and watched my own life turn into someone else’s vacation. There were first-class flights to Mykonos. There was a luxury suite, a private driver, designer shops, spa treatments, and restaurant holds that cost more than my rent. Every charge use

A new message appeared.

SHE PASSED THE FIRST TEST.

Audrey’s breath caught.

She typed with one hand.

WHO ARE YOU?

The reply came almost immediately.

SOMEONE WHO WANTS YOUR SON TO HAVE A FUTURE.

Audrey’s hand moved protectively to her stomach.

HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY ROOM?

No answer.

She typed again.

WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU?

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

YOU SHOULD NOT TRUST ANYONE YET.

A second message followed.

BUT YOU SHOULD CHECK THE INSIDE POCKET OF DIANA’S JACKET.

Audrey looked toward the counter.

Diana’s jacket was not there.

She had been wearing it when she left.

The sender seemed to know the room in real time.

A cold awareness settled over Audrey.

Someone was watching.

She looked toward the ceiling.

Smoke detector.

Air vent.

Television.

The small black dome above the door that she had assumed was part of the hospital security system.

The monitor beside her changed pitch.

Her pulse had risen.

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