"Hurry, Knox!"

She dashed back to the front room, holding out the towels. MacAuley snatched them out of her hands. While he folded them into thick pads, she looked down at the chief.

"Oh, Jesus," she said.

"Shut up!" MacAuley nodded toward the dining room. "Get these civilians out of here."

Hadley turned around. The door between the two rooms was crowded with crying kids. The teenager with the infant stood weeping-the scraggly boy's Porsche, she supposed-rocking the red-faced baby back and forth while it screamed. Best to start with her. Hadley stepped through the doorway, forcing the girl to retreat.

"Porsche? Are you Porsche?"

The girl nodded, openmouthed with crying.

"Is this your baby? What's her name?"

The girl gasped. "Amari." Her voice was wet and shaking.

"Why don't you let me hold Amari for a sec while you catch your breath." Hadley scooped up the baby and ran her pinkie knuckle over its toothless gums. The baby stopped wailing, a startled look on its face. Then it clamped around Hadley's knuckle and began sucking with a vengeance. An old ploy, but it still worked. "Porsche." Hadley moved her face so she blocked the girl's line of sight. "Let's get these little ones out of here. They don't need to see this anymore."