The MRI machine clanged and banged, a rhythmic, industrial techno beat. In the control room, Sophie was distracting the technician.
Inside the scanning room, Elenor slid off the table. She stripped off the hospital gown, shivering in the cool air, and pulled on a set of scrubs Sophie had stashed behind the supply cabinet. They were too big, but they would do.
She pushed open the heavy rear door. The hallway was empty.
Elenor ran. Her bare feet slapped against the tile. She found the side exit and pushed into the cool New York afternoon.
She kept her head down, pulling a surgical cap low over her forehead. She just needed to get to the subway.
A black SUV screeched to a halt across the sidewalk, blocking her path.
Elenor spun around. Three photographers jumped out from behind a parked van. Flashbulbs exploded like grenades. Pop. Pop. Pop.
She was blinded. She threw her hands up to cover her face.
"Elenor!"
The voice was amplified. Julian.
He stepped out of the SUV. He was holding a bouquet of red roses so large it looked comical. A camera crew was right behind him.
"I knew you'd come out!" Julian shouted, performing for the lens. "You were running to me, weren't you?"
Elenor stumbled back. The audacity was breathtaking. He was spinning her escape as a romantic rendezvous.
A crowd began to form. Phones were raised. TikTok live streams started.
Ursula appeared from the crowd, dabbing at dry eyes with a handkerchief. "She's so confused, the poor dear! Just like Hertha warned us she would be. But true love always finds a way. Don't let the Blackburns bully you, Elenor!"
Julian dropped to one knee on the dirty pavement. He held up the ring-the same cheap ring from the hospital.
"Marry me, Elenor," he said. "Let me save you from that loveless arrangement."
Elenor felt dizzy. The flashes, the noise, the smell of exhaust fumes. It was too much.
She shook her head frantically. She tried to back away, but the crowd had formed a wall.
Julian stood up. He closed the distance. He grabbed her hand, forcing the flowers into her arms. He leaned in for a kiss, blocking the camera's view of her face with his shoulder.
"Put the ring on," he hissed into her ear. "Or I send the hard drive I took from Silas's lab to the FBI. I know what was on it."
Elenor froze. The blood drained from her face. He had the drive? Or was he bluffing?
She looked at him. His eyes were cruel, triumphant.
She reached into her scrub pocket and pulled out the phone.
Julian smiled, preening. He thought she was typing a 'yes'. He waved at the camera.
Elenor turned the screen around. She shoved it toward the camera lens, then toward Julian's face.
The text was large. Bold.
YOU MAKE ME SICK.
The crowd gasped. A few people laughed.
Julian's smile curdled.
Elenor looked past him. At the corner of the block, a black Rolls Royce was idling. The window was down. Hilliard Blackburn was watching. He hadn't moved. He was waiting.
