The doors creaked open as an elderly priest stepped into view, eyes kindly, but shadowed with worry.
"Quickly," he said. "Inside."
They darted in. The priest slammed the doors and threw the bolts.
"Thank you, Father," Matteo said.
"Don't thank me yet." His tone was grim. "They're surrounding the building."
Isabella rushed to a narrow window. In front stood black cars, men with guns waiting for them.
"How long will sanctuary protect us?" she asked.
"As long as you stay inside," Father Giuseppe said. "But they can wait. And eventually, you'll have to come out."
Matteo pulled out his phone and hit a number. "Rafa. It's me." His voice was tight. "I need an extraction. Santa Maria's Church. Downtown."
Isabella caught the tinny sound of Rafa's voice hurried and tense.
Matteo's face went cold. "What do you mean you can't? What do you mean there's been another attack?"
Isabella's heart lurched.
"The mansion," Matteo said, his voice low. "They hit the mansion."
