No one argued; Wyatt was the one holding the gun.

Wyatt checked the peephole, his body language shifting fractionally. Not relaxing exactly, but changing. The weapon lowered slightly.

"Emma," he said, his voice gentler now but still firm. "It's military."

Emma's face went white. Completely white. She pressed one hand to her mouth, the other to her stomach, and made a sound Lauren had never heard before. Not quite a sob. Not quite a scream. Just... something breaking.

"No," Emma whispered. ...