"Susannah," a distorted voice said, from far away.
She tried to answer, couldn't move her lips, trapped in a nightmare, her baby torn out of her arms, sly giggles as they trapped her in a world of living with the knowledge that she might never see her baby again.
"Susannah, feel, your rat is safe." Something furry snuggled against her, licked her cheek. It bare-ly registered above Noah's heart-wrenching cries - as if he knew he'd never see his mother again.
Warm fur, soft paws, and little barks slowly penetrated her misery, and she stared down into beady little eyes. "Killer?"
"He went into the closet. I have changed the doors so that it will remain open if he enters a clos-et," Azagor said.
The voices, Noah's cries, receded to the back of her mind, and she wanted to beg the nightmare to come and take her again. Because at least then she heard her baby cry.