At seven years old, I pushed my newborn twin siblings for miles in a rusty wheelbarrow after my mother became unresponsive at home. By the time I stumbled into a hospital, strangers were crying—but hours later, officers found a sealed letter beside Mom that revealed why she had hidden our family for years and who she had been protecting us from.

Carrying me on his hip while holding his pistol ready, Detective Miller sprinted through the dark smoke-filled halls toward the pediatric ICU. Sarah followed closely behind, clutching a medical kit.

When we reached the sixth floor, the nursery doors were wide open. Two nurses were crouched behind the central desk, holding the newborn twins wrapped tightly in blue and pink blankets.

"Are they okay?" I cried out, reaching for my brother and sister.

"They're stable, but they need warmth," one nurse said, her hands shaking as she passed Lily to Sarah and Lucas to me.

Holding my tiny brother against my chest felt natural, despite my trembling arms. His tiny fist gripped the collar of my torn shirt, his warm breath faint against my neck.

"We can't go to the roof," Miller said, looking through the glass of the emergency exit door. "They've got a helicopter circling the upper pad, but it’s not ours. It’s Vance’s private chopper. We have to go down—through the laundry chutes into the subterranean service tunnels."

"The service tunnels?" Sarah asked, shocked. "They lead out to the city storm drains three blocks away!"

"It’s the only way out that isn't lined with Vance’s shooters," Miller insisted. "Keep moving!"

We retraced our steps toward the rear of the floor, ducking into the linen service room. Miller kicked open a metal access hatch that revealed a steep, stainless-steel chute sliding down into the bowels of the hospital.

"You first, Sarah, with Lily," Miller ordered. "Slide down, clear the landing, and wait for us!"

Sarah didn't hesitate. She clutched the baby girl tight, sat on the edge of the chute, and vanished into the darkness.

"Your turn, Emma," Miller looked into my eyes, placing a hand on my head. "Hold Lucas like your life depends on it. I'll be right behind you."

I swallowed my fear, wrapped my arms completely around my baby brother, and let myself slide into the metallic void. The descent was fast, loud, and terrifying, but after five seconds of rushing wind, I shot out onto a massive pile of soft, soiled hospital linens in the basement.

Sarah was already there, helping me to my feet. A second later, Miller hit the laundry pile, dropping the heavy metal lockbox he had retrieved from the wheelbarrow down in the bay before the shooters burned it.