"BREACH! BREACH! THEY'RE IN THE BUILDING!"
The security guards she'd hired shouted orders that grew more desperate by the second as more gunshots echoed through the corridors, accompanied by the sound of running feet, and something heavy being dragged.
"Oh God, no." Dr. Martinelli spun toward the door, her face going white as paper. "Lock it down! Lock everything down! NOW! MOVE!" Her voice rose to a shriek as she lunged for the reinforced doors.
But it was too late. Arlo Wellington didn't leave loose ends, and he had resources that made her months of planning look like a child's game.
The reinforced doors exploded inward with a deafening crash that made Georgia's ears ring and her head snap back.
Men in black suits poured through the opening like a flood of darkness, weapons raised.
Georgia's nightmare became reality in the space of a single heartbeat.
She was in a daze for a moment until the wail of her baby snapped her back to reality.
"NO!" She tried to throw herself from the bed toward her baby. "DON'T TOUCH HIM! DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY BABY!" Her voice was raw, like a mother animal defending her children.
Kathy lunged forward without thinking, without hesitation, throwing herself between Georgia and the armed men with her arms spread wide in a futile attempt to shield her mistress.
The girl she'd helped raise, the woman she'd watched suffer, the mother she'd just helped bring new life into the world.
"Run! RUN!" The words tore from her throat, raw and desperate, even though there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, no escape from this. "You must live! Take the baby and live! Please, Georgia, PLEASE..."
She knew it was hopeless. Still, she had to try. She had to give Georgia a chance, however small. She had to do something, anything, even if it cost her everything.
A single gunshot cracked through the air, impossibly loud in the confined space.
Kathy's body jerked violently, her eyes going wide with shock, pain and something that looked almost like relief.
Relief that it was her instead of Georgia, that she could do this one last thing.
Then she crumpled to the floor in slow motion as blood bloomed across her chest, spreading like a crimson flower.
Georgia's stomach turn. "Kathy!" Her voice shattered on the name, breaking into a thousand pieces. "KATHY! No, no, no, please, KATHY!"
She tried to crawl toward her, toward the woman who'd been more mother to her but her body wouldn't cooperate, wouldn't move, wouldn't do anything but shake and bleed.
"AHHH!" Pure, undiluted terror ripped from Paula's throat as she watched Kathy's lifeless eyes staring at her.
She dove behind a medical cart, shaking so violently she could barely hold onto the baby.
Dr. Martinelli's whole body trembled so violently that her knees nearly buckled beneath her.
She threw her hands up. "Please, I'm just a doctor! We're not armed! We're just trying to help! There's a newborn here! A BABY! Please, we're not a threat! We're not..."
Her words cut off abruptly as a single bullet punched through her forehead, snapping her head back with brutal force.
For a moment, she stood there, swaying with her hands still raised and her mouth still open. Then her body crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut, hitting the floor with a heavy thud that seemed too loud.
Blood and brain splattered across the wall behind her, a gruesome sight that made Georgia's vision swim with nausea.
"NO! NO! STOP! PLEASE STOP!" Georgia fought with everything left in her broken, bleeding body.
Her vision was going gray at the edges, but she lunged toward Paula anyway, dragging herself across the floor.
The midwife was backing toward the window, her feet almost slipping in Kathy's blood, Dr. Martinelli's blood, Georgia's blood… all mixing together on the white marble.
Terror filled her eyes, making them impossibly wide, but her grip on the infant never wavered.
She held him like he was the most precious thing in the world, because he was, because he had to be protected, because someone had to save him.
"Give him to me!" Georgia's voice dissolved into incoherent sounds of grief and desperation.
She crawled across the glass-covered marble, shards biting deep into her palms and knees, cutting through skin and muscle, leaving bloody handprints in her wake.
But pain meant nothing now. Her body's suffering was irrelevant. Only her son mattered. Only getting to him, holding him, protecting him with whatever life she had left.
"Please," she begged, reaching out with bloody hands. "Please, I'm his mother. I'm his MOTHER. Give him to me. Let me hold him. Let me die holding him. Please, please, PLEASE..."
But the intruders moved faster. One raised his weapon toward Paula, right where she held the baby.
Tears streamed down the midwife's face, falling onto the baby's cheek, mixing with his frightened cries that were growing weaker, more confused, as if he could sense the danger surrounding him.
"He's just a baby. He hasn't done anything wrong. He's INNOCENT. Please don't hurt him. Kill me if you want, but please, don't hurt this baby. I'm begging you. I'll do anything. ANYTHING. Just don't..."
Her voice broke completely, dissolving into sobs that shook her whole body.
The gunshot that followed was deafening in the sudden silence.
"NO!" Georgia's scream was inhuman… the sound of something broken that could never be repaired.
Paula's head snapped back violently, her body going rigid for one eternal moment before her eyes went blank.
Those kind eyes that had smiled at Georgia throughout the delivery, that had whispered encouragement, that had promised everything would be okay.
Then she collapsed in a graceless heap, instinctively curling around the baby even in death, trying to protect him with her last breath, her last movement, her last act of humanity.
The baby's cries cut off abruptly as Paula's body hit the ground, and for one heart-stopping moment, Georgia couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare in absolute horror.
Then she threw herself forward but a rough hand grabbed her shoulders, yanking her back.
One of the men bent down and snatched the infant from Paula's lifeless arms.
As though that was a restoration button, the baby's cries resumed, high and terrified and completely helpless.
"GIVE HIM BACK!" Georgia clawed at the man's legs. "HE'S MINE! HE'S MY BABY!"
Another figure appeared behind her and pressed the cold barrel of his weapon against the back of her skull—a promise of death that made her entire body go rigid.
Georgia knew with absolute clarity that these were her final moments. The end of everything she'd fought to protect. The end of all her desperate plans and futile hopes.
"Please." All pride abandoned her, crumbling like ash. "Please don't hurt him. He's innocent. He hasn't done anything. I..."
The sudden sound of high heels echoing through the doorway made her pause.
Each step was deliberate, unhurried, measured. Someone was savoring this moment, drawing out the anticipation like a fine wine meant to be enjoyed slowly.
Georgia's blurry eyes snapped up with hope. However, her hope turned to dread when she saw Stella Wayne standing at the entrance, dressed entirely in a black suit that hugged every curve perfectly.
She looked ready for a funeral. Georgia's funeral.