With Liana strapped to my chest in the makeshift sling and Luca cradled in my left arm, I climbed with one hand.

The metal rungs bit into my palms, cold and slick with condensation.

Below me, the door scraped open, and a beam of flashlight cut through the dark utility room.

“Check the corners,” a man muttered.

I hauled myself up onto the wet asphalt of the alley just as the light swept the base of the ladder.

Rain hit my face, cold and sharp.

I ran, my lungs burning, keeping the babies tucked deep inside my coat.

I took two different buses to reach the edge of Dorchester, staring out the window at the neon signs blurring in the rain.

My wet clothes clung to my skin, and the babies were shivering.

I kept them tucked inside my oversized coat, listening to their shallow, rapid breathing.

Vance’s house was a small, gray triple-decker with peeling paint and a sagging front porch.

I walked up the wooden steps, my knees trembling from exhaustion.

Before I could knock, the door swung open.