Berlin ran through smoke-filled hallways, one hand protecting her belly. The fire alarm screamed. Emergency lights flickered red. Somewhere ahead, flames crackled.
*Five minutes.*
A hand grabbed her arm. She spun—
Mike Petan stumbled from the smoke, coughing, wearing only a hospital gown. He was supposed to be unconscious.
"Mike?" Berlin stared. "How are you awake?"
"Someone pulled my IV out. Room filled with smoke." He gasped for air. "The little girl—I heard the nurse. Penelope has her."
"Penny is gone crazy..."
"I know what she's capable of." His expression darkened. "The old psychiatric wing. Fourth floor, west side. That's where she'd take her. Isolated. No witnesses."
"It's a trap."
"I know." Mike straightened despite obvious pain. "But we're going anyway, right?"
Berlin managed a grim smile. "You read my mind. Let's go."
