One of them grabbed my upper arms from behind.

His grip was like iron, bruising my skin through my heavy sweater.

The other man stood in front of me, ready to take the babies if I dropped them.

“I can walk,” I gasped, holding the twins tightly. “Do not touch them. I will go.”

“Let her carry them,” Leo said from the hallway. “It will keep her quiet.”

They escorted me out of the kitchen.

We passed Vance, who was sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands.

He wouldn’t look up as we walked by.

The cold rain hit my face the moment we stepped onto the porch.

The storm had worsened, turning the dirt driveway into a soup of brown mud.

A black sedan stood waiting, its engine idling with a deep, rhythmic thrum.

The exhaust pipe blew white plumes of steam into the dark air.

One of the men opened the rear door.

The leather inside was black and clean.

They pushed me into the back seat.

I scrambled to sit upright, adjusting the babies so they wouldn’t get crushed.