Was she being silly? Hiding in the closet while her brain spun crazy theories? From what she knew of Dr. Kilgore, she liked him. He’d been kind to her and helped her. So why was she afraid of him now?

She’s better off where she is now.

Where was that? Probably home or in the psychiatric ward.

Another round of curses and a hard thud against the cabinet made her jump. He really wasn’t happy. Her fingers curled tighter around the device. What would he do if she stepped out of the closet and handed it to him?

There were so many things wrong with that mental picture. Wouldn’t that fuel her father’s quest to ruin her career and have her declared mentally incompetent?

The darkness in the closet grew even blacker. The light filtering between the cracks faded and Sarah blinked hard. Don’t pass out. No passing out allowed. At least not until he’s gone.

More banging. More footsteps that stopped in front of the small closet. She squeezed her eyes shut. Don’t open it, don’t open it, oh please, don’t op—

“Doctor?”

“What?” The snapped word cracked like a whip, and Sarah’s eyes flew open to find the door still shut. Her heart thudded and she pressed a hand to her chest, afraid he’d be able to hear it pounding.

“Um . . . I’m sorry. I was asked to find you and let you know that Ms. Denning is missing.”

Stillness. As though he was having trouble processing the statement.

“What do you mean she’s missing?”

“She’s not in her room and no one can seem to locate her.”

A scoff, then a hard thud against the closet door. Sarah flinched.

“Of all the incompetent—” His deep breath reached her ears through the doors. “I’m coming.”

Sarah wilted, her thundering heart slowing from warp speed to runaway train. Once he was gone, she unfolded herself out of the closet and set the phone on the counter where she’d found it. Now, to make it back to her room without passing out.

Gavin had been all over the floor looking for Sarah and had come up empty. He returned to her room to find Dr. Kilgore and Nurse Donna in a heated discussion they snapped off when he stepped into view. Donna cleared her throat and Dr. Kilgore smoothed his facial features into an expression of reassurance. “I know this is disturbing,” he said, “but the doors to this floor are locked. She’s most likely wandered into another patient’s room and—”

“I understand, Doctor. She’s not a child. She can leave her room if she wants, but she’s been spiking a fever and I’m concerned she could fall and reopen the wound.”

“Of course, of course. Where’s her father?”