I reached out my hand, my fingers brushing against a wet sleeve.

“Evelyn,” a voice whispered in the dark.

It was a voice I didn’t expect to hear, cold and close to my ear.

It was Vance.

He was standing right behind me.

“Give me the book,” he whispered, his grip tightening on my arm.

The phone in my pocket began to vibrate, the blue screen lighting up his face in the darkness.

He was smiling.

And the metal of his gun was pressed hard against my side.

“Where is it, Evelyn?” he asked.

I looked toward the center of the room, where the snow was falling through the broken roof, covering the floor in white.

And the sound of a child’s cry rose above the wind, a thin, desperate sound in the dark.

“Mama!” Lauren screamed.

And then, the light in the warehouse flared back on, blinding us all.

The double doors of the loading dock flew open, and a figure stood in the entrance, his silhouette dark against the snow outside.

He held a rifle in his hands, his eyes locked on Vance.