Skulking down the hall, on a reconnaissance mission, she jolted at the faint sound of feminine screaming, guttural and base. June continued forward and when she rounded the corner, the walls became glass and behind them, perfectly aligned bassinets with pastel-wrapped, pink-faced infants in them. All this trouble to protect these little mounds of soft and pacifiers and toes and stripey blankies. Of course they couldn't allow access to just any elevator-rider, she had seen plenty she imagined wouldn't be above baby-napping.