The three men padded down the corridor in near silence, their shadows stretching long across the pale walls. The faint glow from a single night-lamp seeped out beneath the nursery door. One of them eased the handle down, pushing it open just enough for a slim beam of light to cut across the hall.
Inside, the room smelled of warm milk and clean cotton. Tiny breaths came in soft, steady rhythms from two cribs beneath the window—Taymor and Ashton lay swaddled and sleeping soundly, their small chests rising and falling in perfect time.
The lead man stepped in first, holding a finger to his lips for quiet as he checked each corner of the room. All clear—except for the empty third crib by the far wall.
The other man frowned, moving to it. The blanket inside was folded neatly, untouched.
"Where's the third one?"
He whispered.
"Boss said three, right?"
The first man muttered, his eyes scanning the room again then towards the name plaques embedded on each crib.
