But why up? Shouldn’t I run out the back door and not deeper into the house? The upstairs bathroom and the slanted, notched part of the roof. That must be it. A way out. I grab the banister when my feet slip.

“Ms. Lang!” one of them calls. So close I can almost feel his breath.

“Stop! Leave her alone!” My dad sounds so angry I barely recognize his voice. Many more voices shout back at him. Gasping, thudding, a struggle. “You can’t just barge into our house!”

“Dr. Lang, calm down!”

“Hey! Stop!” The voice behind me again. Even closer now. I lunge forward as I hit the upstairs hall.

The bathroom. That’s where I need to go. Focus. Focus. Faster. Faster. Before he grabs me. The door isn’t far. And I’ll only need a second to open the window and crawl out. After a quick slide to the ground, I’ll do then what I have done before. Run. Like. Hell.

Down the hallway I pound, loud feet still just a stride behind me. “Wylie!” the man calls out, but stiff like he doesn’t want to admit that I even have a name.

“This is our house!” my dad shouts again. He sounds closer to the steps.

“Dr. Lang, you need to stay here!”

My eyes are locked on the bathroom door at the end of the hall. It seems so far away. The hallway endless. But I need to get to that door. Window up. Slide out. One step at a time. As fast as I possibly can.

“Ms. Lang!” The voice again, much closer. Too close. And nervous. He is near enough to grab me but is too afraid of hurting me. “Come on! Stop! What are you doing?”

Past the first door on the right. Two more left to go.

But then my foot catches on the carpet. I manage to get my hands up at the very last second so that it’s my wrist that cracks hard against the wall, and then my shoulder instead of my face. Still, the shooting pain makes me feel dizzy as I hit the ground. I think I might vomit as I roll into myself, cradling my arm against my stomach. I’m afraid to look down. Terrified the bone might be poking through.

“Jesus, are you okay?” The agent has stopped in front of me. I can now see he’s the short one with the overly muscular arms that stick out stiffly from his sides. And he is definitely as nervous as he sounded. But also annoyed. He looks up and down the hall like he’s checking for witnesses. “Damn it. I told you not to run.”