The hallway leading to Caroline Remington’s room stretched out like a white, silent, sterile tunnel. Two of Nathan’s guards stood watch on either side. On his direct order, the hospital had been told to delay notifying the police until he was done speaking with her.

A doctor handed him sterile protective clothing and a mask. It felt excessive, but protocol mattered. Appearances mattered.

Nathan’s footsteps echoed down the empty corridor. Each sound felt like a confirmation of the ...