Mason tapped on the door, doing his best not to break it down. For nearly forty-five minutes he'd had to sit around, shoot the bull with Abraham and talk guns when all he wanted to do was have Hannah in his line of sight. He'd recognized the panic in her eye, the fear, but there wasn't time to coddle her, to ease her into it all or explain anything.
"Hannah, open the door." He knocked again.
If she didn't answer, he was going to kick it in.
First one lock, then another scraped and the door cracked open, a sliver of Hannah's face visible.
He blew out a breath and splayed his hand against the wood.
"Open the door," he said.
She stepped back and he slipped in, locking the door behind him. Mason drew his first easy breath since the moment Abraham lowered his gun. Mason's hands shook and
