“There’s a stairwell by the back door to what I assume is an apartment upstairs,” Michael whispered as we made our way behind the front counter.

When we soundlessly passed through the swinging door into the prep room, we both turned to one another. The air inside was noticeably warmer from the air compressor, and there was rope wrapped between the freezer handle and a pipe parallel to the door. I rushed to the door, untying the rope and pulling it open while Michael covered my back.

A gust of cool air met me, along with the sight of tiny Sofia, curled into a ball on the floor. I rushed to where she lay, my heart in my throat at the sight of her blue lips and ghostly white skin. “Sof, wake up!” I rubbed her cool arms, cursing and pleading for her to show me signs of life. I forced myself to remain still just long enough to watch her and see the small movement at the pulse point on her neck.

She was alive.

Thank Christ.

“Is she alive?” hissed Michael, edging in from the door.

“Stay outside that door. I don’t want us all trapped in here. She’s breathing, but we gotta get her warmed up.” The air wasn’t actually as cold as I’d feared, but her prolonged exposure to it had her core temperature dangerously low. I carefully lifted her in my arms, but before I could take a step, a sound came from somewhere inside the shop.

My eyes met Michael’s, and a silent communication passed between us—I would keep Sofia safe; he would handle whatever was up front. I carried her out of the freezer but stayed in the prep room while Michael quietly snuck out to the front counter.

Seconds later, gunfire rang out in the small shop—a series of rapid shots shattering the quiet around us. I dropped to a squat, holding Sofia tight to my chest, my back turned to the entry. The exchange only lasted a matter of seconds, then the room fell back into silence.

“Fuck!” Michael barked in an angry yell. “You can come out, Nico. He’s gone.”

I rose to my feet, then peeked out the front, doing my best to keep my gun out while still holding Sofia. Michael was leaned against the side wall, hunched over, and blood was spreading out from a gunshot wound in his thigh.

“I can’t believe I fucking let him get away,” he bit out, slamming his fist against the wall. “Must have been the stairs creaking that we heard. I caught him just as he came around the corner, but I didn’t expect him to be armed. We both shot, and he took off. I got him in the shoulder but couldn’t chase after him.”

“We can’t worry about that now. Sofia needs to get warm, and you need a doctor. Can you get to the car, or should I call an ambulance?”

“Let’s get her home first. I’ll be fine once I tie it off.” He pulled off his belt, then cinched it around his upper thigh.