The dashboard receiver was quiet now, emitting only a low, rhythmic static.

“Adrian?” I whispered to the empty car.

There was no answer.

I reached for the door handle, my fingers slipping on the cold plastic.

I pushed the door open and stepped out into the freezing slush.

The wind hit me like a physical blow, whipping my hair across my face.

“Mrs. DeLuca! Get back in the vehicle!” a uniform officer yelled from behind a nearby barricade.

I ignored him, my boots sinking into the wet snow as I walked toward the warehouse entrance.

The ground was littered with brass casings, glittering like gold against the white ground.

I walked past a row of parked utility vans, my eyes fixed on the wide, dark opening of the building.

Inside, the air was thick with gray haze.

“Clear!” an agent shouted from somewhere high up on the metal catwalks.

“We need medics in here, now!” another voice called out.

I stepped over a frozen puddle, my hand still holding my coat tight over my belly.

The smell of gunpowder was stronger inside, mixing with the musty scent of old wood and wet concrete.