— she mocked. — I’ve been doing this for years, Arthur. I change names like you change suits. The police are always a step behind.
She paused.
— But I’m not calling to chat. I think you know why I’m calling.
Arthur’s stomach dropped.
— You’re already here, — he breathed.
Silence on the line.
— Very close, — she whispered.
At that moment, the door to the room swung open. Arthur spun around, but it was just a nurse. A woman in blue scrubs, a surgical mask covering her face, pushing a cart of supplies. But something was off. Her eyes. He knew those eyes.
Evelyn. His heart stopped. Before he could move, she lunged, a small, sharp scalpel appearing in her hand, held against his throat.
— Quiet, — she hissed. — Not a sound.
He froze. She smiled behind the mask.
— Now, we’re going to do this my way.
Arthur didn’t move. The cold steel of the blade pressed against his skin. He looked at Leo. The boy was still asleep, his face peaceful, completely unaware of the monster standing three feet away.
— What do you want? — Arthur asked, his voice a low growl.
Evelyn smirked.
— Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to finish what I started.
She glanced toward the bed, and that split second of distraction was all Arthur needed. He wasn’t a fighter, but he was a father.
In a burst of adrenaline, Arthur grabbed her wrist, twisting it away from his throat. The scalpel clattered to the floor. She shrieked and tried to claw at his face, but he shoved her back against the wall, pinning her with his weight…
