Diane's POV
"Where is she?" I whispered, terror clawing at my throat. "Where's Danielle?"
"Diane." Noah's voice was strange, hollow. "Diane, don't turn around."
But I was already turning, already seeing what had been blocking the door from the inside.
Sophie.
My sister lay lifeless on the floor in a spreading pool of blood, her body positioned protectively in front of where the bassinets sat. And in her arms, clutched against her chest as if she'd died trying to shield her, was Danielle.
My baby girl was alive…I could see her tiny chest rising and falling…but Sophie...
Sophie's eyes were open but seeing nothing. A bullet hole marked the center of her chest, and the wall behind her was splattered with blood and worse things. But even in death, her arms remained curved around my daughter, her body a shield between the bassinet and whoever had done this.
