In his other hand he carried a child’s pink backpack, gripped tight against his side.

Cordell looked once at the sealed envelope on his counter.

Once at the printed pharmacy record beside it, with the prescriber’s name across the top.

And once at the two children crouched behind his desk, one of them with her arms around the other.

He did not need any more time than that.

He crossed to the front doors, turned the deadbolt, and dropped the interior latch.