Gas was pouring into the room. Thick. White. Filling the space rapidly.
Through the fog, he could see movement. Two figures running. A larger one was staggering behind them.
“Lila, Brian,” David’s voice was frantic, his heart hammering so loudly in his chest he could barely hear anything else.
His hands flew to the keypad beside the door.
He punched in the original code.
Error.
The panel flashed red.
“She’s overridden the code,” he hissed anxiously, trying again. “Darn it, Lila.”
His hands were shaking. Through the window, he could see them getting closer to the door. See Lila stumble. See Preston’s hand reach out.
No. No, no, no.
He turned to Mia, desperate. “Tell me about her. Tell me about Lila.”
“What?” Mia looked at him, stupefied and blank.
“David needs to know about Lila so he can try to figure out what she changed the code to,” Eve explained calmly, stepping up beside Mia and putting a hand on her arm.
David’s heart swelled as he watched the woman he’d fallen in love with. The way she knew exactly how to calm Mia. How much she cared for his daughter. The strength in her voice despite the terror in her eyes.
Guilt swallowed him for a moment.
He didn’t deserve either of them.
But he gave himself a mental shake. Now was not the time for this. His granddaughter was inside that room with a cold-blooded killer.
“What... what do you need to know?” Mia was confused, her voice shaking.
“Her birthdate,” David asked, his fingers poised over the keypad.
“No,” Nolan stepped up beside him. “She just told us we were outdated using that.”
His eyes narrowed, and he turned toward Mia. “She told me at the ice rink when I told her about my parents that her worst day was the day your mother died.”
Mia rattled off the date.
David punched it in.
Error.
“No,” he breathed.
Not the day.
The day of the week.
“Lila’s worst day of the week,” Eve said suddenly. “Sunday.”
David’s fingers flew across the keypad. S-U-N-D-A-Y.
The first click sounded.
