I gripped the warm milk bottle tighter, my mind racing as the headlights grew brighter outside.

We had to get to the girls before they did.

I turned toward the back staircase, but the sound of heavy boots on the front porch stopped me.

Julian reached the heavy brass handle of the front door.

Nathan lunged forward, but Julian’s hand was already on the electronic bypass panel.

He entered a five-digit master code.

The heavy electromagnetic locks released with a deep, metallic thud.

The wind immediately howled through the crack, throwing a spray of dry, icy snow across the slate tiles of the foyer.

Three men stepped out of the darkness of the blizzard and into the warm light of the mansion.

They wore heavy tactical jackets with the logo of a private security firm on the shoulders.

Their boots left wet, gray slush on the clean floor.

“Get out of my house,” Nathan said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register.

He reached into his pocket for his phone.

The lead guard, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running through his left eyebrow, stepped forward.