5.

Mike spun in his chair and saw Eli running toward him, carrying his water bottle in one hand and a box of animal crackers in the other. Falling into his arms, the boy clasped him furiously in a tumble of smells and small muscles, love so intense it almost hurt. Mike looked up over his son’s head where his wife stood holding an empty box.

“Mike.” Her eyes flashed off Jolie, the bottle, two glasses. “We need to talk.”

“Not now.” Inside the magnet, Frank Snow had drawn his legs up so all that was visible was the lower half of his legs. Mike hit “Abort Scan” and the knocking sound stopped. “You have to get out of here.”

She was rooting around in her purse. “Mike—”

“Sarah, you have to leave!”

Now she looked up, face smooth with shock. Eli had drawn back to stare at him, speechless. Even the cops, who were crammed at the door of the scan room, momentarily turned their heads around in surprise.

“Go upstairs; I’ll meet you in the lobby. Find Steve Calhoun. He’ll keep an eye on you until I get a chance to come up.”

At first Sarah didn’t move. Then with no visible change in expression she dumped her bag on the floor, pouring out a wallet, wads of Kleenex, toy trains, a cell phone, fruit snacks, parking tickets, slips and scraps of paper that skittered in front of her. Mike saw her Coach key chain hit the worn tile, the one he’d given her on their first anniversary. Reaching down, Sarah picked up a crumpled slip and tossed it at his feet.

“I found this in your pocket last night,” she said. Her voice had a drab, resigned flatness that he’d heard only once before in their marriage.

“Sarah—” Too many things were happening at once. His wife had turned into an ice sculpture in front of him. Somewhere off to his right, Jolie was talking again, saying something to the police, but it no longer sounded remotely humorous, and the cops were all talking simultaneously.

“Sarah,” Mike said, “wait!” But she was already shoving piles of stuff blindly back in her bag. She grabbed Eli’s hand, pulling him away, the boy twisting around to look back at Mike. Mike dropped the note, shot to his feet sharply enough to send his chair rolling backward, where it banged into the desk. He looked over at the others. “I’ll be right back.”

Jolie stared; no one else seemed to notice. “Wait, you’re leaving now?”

“Just get the scan started. See if you can make him hold still.”

“I’m not even on the clock anymore. The only reason I even stayed—”

He was out the door before she finished, into the empty hallway. There were three different ways Sarah and Eli could’ve gone, but he knew she wouldn’t have taken the elevator. Swinging open a metal door to the stairs, he looked up just in time to see a sliver of daylight disappearing through the door at the top.