She hovered a handheld reader over the code. It beeped once. A loading bar appeared on her screen. On the table, Rex lay on his side, eyes heavy from the sedative—breathing slow, steady. Safe. Still here. A soft knock sounded. The door opened and a man stepped in—mid-forties, plain jacket, the kind of face you’d forget in five minutes.
His eyes went straight to the table and he gave a small, relieved smile, like he’d found what he came for. “There you are,” he said softly, already taking a step closer. Sarah moved between him and the table. “Can I help you?” The man blinked, surprised. “I’m here for the Shepherd,” he said, nodding toward Rex like it was obvious. “I got a call he was brought in.”