“Leave the laptop,” Ryker said. “We need to move the kids to the safe room behind the wine cellar.”

“The corridor is narrow,” I said. “If they get down the stairs, we’ll be trapped.”

“They won’t get down the stairs,” Ryker said.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a second magazine, placing it on the table next to Marco.

“Keep the transfer running,” Ryker told him. “Clara, take the kids.”

I stood up, holding Lily’s hand in my left and Owen’s in my right.

Their hands were cold and slightly sweaty.

“Come on,” I whispered. “We’re going to play a game of quiet.”

“Like in the closet?” Owen asked.

“Exactly like that,” I said.

We moved toward the narrow wooden door at the back of the basement.

It led to a small, low-ceilinged passageway that ran beneath the old foundation.

Ryker stood by the main door, his weapon raised, his eyes fixed on the hinges.

“Ryker,” I said, stopping at the threshold of the passage.

He did not turn around.

“Go, Clara,” he said.

I led the children into the dark corridor.