A dim warehouse on the edge of the city buzzed with the low hum of fluorescent lights and the soft, pitiful cries of two infants echoing in the cold air. Mary paced back and forth, agitated. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes manic. The babies were still wailing in their makeshift crib—a pile of blankets inside a broken cardboard box. "Shut up!" she screamed again, slamming her palm on the crate beside them. The babies flinched and wailed louder. She gritted her teeth and turned away, muttering, “Just a few more minutes. Zeus will be here. He has to be.” Outside, Zeus stood beside the lead officer, vest strapped on and eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights. Winter, pale and trembling, waited in the van a few meters back, her motherly instincts screaming at her to run inside. But she held back, trusting Zeus, trusting the plan. “Are you sure she’s in there?” Zeus asked through clenched teeth. “Yes,” the officer replied. “Thermal imaging picked up three heat signatures—two small, one
Last Updated : 2025-07-04 Read more