“I’ll be in touch,” Kilgore said. “I think I left my cell phone in the room. The last thing I need is that falling into the wrong hands.”

Sarah jerked and looked down at the phone. What was the doctor so worried about? She tucked the device into the pocket of her robe.

“Might not be there by now. They just finished cleaning the room.”

“It’s there. Cleaning staff said they left it in case someone came back for it. I’m back.”

Sarah grimaced and guilt slammed her. Was it still stealing if it was done for an altruistic purpose and she planned to give it back?

Probably. But what if there was something on the phone that she could use to help Brianne? A woman she was starting to wonder if she’d created or had been a figment of her fevered imagination.

No. Brianne was as real as she.

But, yes, it was stealing.

But, yes, she really would give it back. After she sneaked a peek. After all, her father may have derailed her military career, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look for her next story to sell. Nothing wrong with that, right?

More guilt.

A silent sigh slipped past her dry lips.

She couldn’t do it. She might be a reporter, but she had her standards. Besides, he probably had a password she couldn’t crack. And then there was the whole phone finder app thing. It wouldn’t take him long to locate it anyway. Sarah slid the phone from her pocket and started to put it back on the counter, only to freeze when the door to the room squeaked on the hinges.

Having standards was all well and good, but for some reason, she didn’t want to be caught in the room. Not by Dr. Kilgore anyway. Quicker than her battered body liked, she scrunched into the small double closet and pulled the doors shut.

Less than a second later, confident footsteps entered the room and strode in her direction. Pain throbbed through her at the uncomfortable position, but she didn’t dare move. Or breathe.

The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that “they” had done something with Brianne. Better off where she is now. Where could that possibly be? If they were even talking about Brianne. If not, then who? A shudder racked her, and she bit her lip against the moan that rose in her throat. She truly felt awful.

More footsteps. A string of curses. Sarah shivered and heat radiated from her. A wave of dizziness made her glad she was already kneeling with her knees against the side of the closet. Her breaths came in low, silent pants through dry lips.