By the time the ambulance doors opened, the boy had stopped shaking.

The air inside the pumping station was cold, thick with the smell of mildew, wet brick, and stagnant water. Grant swept the powerful beam of the flashlight across the interior. Massive, rusted iron flywheels and steam pipes rose up into the shadows like the ribcage of a long-dead leviathan.

"Ava!" Grant called out, his voice echoing loudly against the curved brick ceilings. "Kendra!"

Only the sound of dripping water answered him.

From somewhere deep beneath their feet came a low, rhythmic rushing sound—the river, swollen by the heavy rain, pressing against the old drainage valves of the lower vaults.

Noah pulled on Maya's sleeve, pointing down a narrow, descending flight of wet concrete steps that led into total darkness.

"Down there," Maya said.

They descended carefully, Grant holding the flashlight low to illuminate the slippery steps. As they reached the second subterranean level, the temperature dropped noticeably. Maya could see her breath blooming in faint white clouds before her.

"Kendra!" Grant tried again, his voice tight with desperation. "It's Grant! I'm here with Noah and Nurse Torres! The police aren't with us! It's safe!"

A small, muffled sound echoed from the far end of a long, vaulted brick corridor. It sounded like a sharp intake of breath, followed by a faint, mechanical click.

Grant froze. "Kendra?"

"Don't move!" a voice screamed from the darkness.

The flashlight beam revealed a figure huddled behind an old iron junction box at the end of the hall. It was Kendra. Her yellow jacket was torn and caked in dark mud, her hair plastered to her skull. In her right hand, she was shaking violently as she held a heavy rusty crowbar raised like a weapon.

Wrapped tightly against her chest in a thick, dry fleece blanket was a tiny bundle.

"Kendra," Grant said softly, taking a slow step forward, holding his hands out in the open. "Please. Put the bar down. It's me."

"Keep away from me!" Kendra sobbed, her eyes wild with terror. "Julian's men... they saw me leave the house! They chased me to the bridge! I had to ditch the car... I had to jump the fence..."

"We know," Maya said, stepping forward gently beside Grant. "We know about Julian. Noah showed us the card, Kendra. We know you were trying to save them."

At the sound of Maya's voice, the tiny bundle in Kendra's arms shifted. A small, soft whimpering sound emerged from the fleece blanket, followed by a sudden, loud baby cry.

"Ava," Grant choked out. Tears streamed down his face as he dropped to his knees right there on the damp concrete floor. "Oh God, Ava..."

Kendra looked at Grant, then down at Noah, who was standing beside Maya. When she saw the boy holding his red fire truck, the tension seemed to snap inside her. She let the crowbar drop to the floor with a loud, metallic clang and collapsed into a sitting position against the damp brick wall, weeping hysterically.

Grant scrambled forward on his knees, reaching out to wrap his arms around both the young nanny and his infant daughter. He pulled the baby close against his chest, burying his face in the fleece blanket, sobbing openly. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry I didn't believe you..."

Maya rushed over, kneeling beside them to examine the infant. "Let me see her, Grant."

She checked Ava's tiny hands and pulse. The baby's skin was cool, but her chest was rising and falling strongly, and her cry was loud and vigorous—a clear sign that her airway was clear and she hadn't succumbed to cold.

"She's okay," Maya said, relief washing over her so fast her knees felt weak. "She's hungry and cold, but she's uninjured."

Noah stepped closer, his tiny hand reaching out to touch his sister's soft cheek. Ava's tiny fingers instinctively reached out from the blanket and curled tightly around Noah's thumb.