“I can’t breathe!”

“It’s FM-200 fire suppression gas,” Nathan said calmly.

“It displaces oxygen in a closed space.”

“I suggest you step away.”

Julian fell to his knees, coughing violently, his chest heaving.

Vanessa tried to pull him toward the door, her white fur coat catching on the shattered glass.

“Get up, Julian!” she screamed.

“We have to go!”

Through the thick glass of the panic room, I heard the faint, distant wail of sirens.

They were cutting through the heavy winter air, growing louder by the second.

Flashing red and blue lights began to paint the frosted windows of the playroom.

Vanessa ran to the window and pushed the heavy velvet drapes aside.

Below, three large black police SUVs were plowing through the deep snow drifts of the driveway.

“No,” Vanessa whispered, her face losing all color.

She turned to Nathan, her eyes wide with desperation.

“Nathan, listen to me,” she said, her voice trembling.

“We can work this out.”

“Tell them it was a drill.”

“Tell them we were testing the security system.”

Nathan didn’t look at her.

He walked over to the keypad on the wardrobe.