Chapter 10 - The Cleaner at the Door
The gas rolled across the porch like a low-slung fog, pooling thickly around the threshold before spilling onto the hardwood floor of the hallway. It smelled sweet, like almonds and old perfume, heavy enough to induce dizziness within seconds of inhalation.
Officer Vance dropped into a tactical crouch, aiming his service pistol directly at the opening door. "Step away from the threshold! Federal agent—drop whatever you're holding!"
The figure in the trench coat didn't flinch. He slowly lowered his hood, revealing a sharp-jawed man in his forties with cold, expressionless eyes. He didn't carry a firearm; instead, he held a pressurized chemical canister connected to a rubber hose that snaked back out toward the driveway.
"You're wasting your breath, detective," the cleaner said, his voice smooth and devoid of any regional accent. "Leo Evans doesn't leave loose ends. And he certainly doesn't leave witnesses who know the location of his offshore accounts."
Sarah shielded the newborn infant against her chest, using her body to block the drifting fumes while keeping one hand pressed firmly against Clara’s trembling abdomen. "Push, Clara! I need you to push right now, or we won't survive the next minute!"
Clara let out a ragged cry, her entire body locking up as the second contraction tore through her. "I can't... the air... it burns my throat!"
"Breathe through the cloth!" Martha ordered, tossing a damp towel toward Sarah while she reached into her green cardigan to pull out a small, heavy object—a vintage brass paperweight shaped like an anchor.
The cleaner stepped across the threshold, his boots crunching on the soot left behind by the disabled smart panel. He raised the nozzle of the canister, pointing it directly toward the center of the hallway where Clara lay.
"A family reunion," the cleaner murmured, stepping closer. "How touching. Too bad attendance is mandatory for the final act."
Before he could depress the valve, Martha lunged from the floor with surprising speed, hurling the heavy brass anchor directly at the cleaner's chest. The impact caught him off guard, sending him staggering backward against the doorframe just as a second, louder wail echoed through the hallway.
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The second baby had arrived.
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