I tapped the screen, and a grainy video began to play.

It showed Ethan sitting in a stark interview room, his face red and tear-stained.

He was leaning across a metal table toward a woman in a gray suit.

“I’ll tell you everything,” Ethan’s voice came through the phone’s speaker. “Just keep my mother away from me.”

The video cut off abruptly.

A knock on the door made us all turn.

A uniform police officer stood in the doorway, his face pale.

“Agent Vance,” the officer said. “We have a problem downstairs.”

“What is it?” Vance asked, his hand instinctively moving toward his hip.

“Patricia Parker’s attorney just arrived with a court order,” the officer said.

“For what?” my father demanded, stepping in front of my bed.

“They are demanding immediate custody of the infant,” the officer said.

My father’s hand clenched into a fist.

“Over my dead body,” he said.

His voice was low, vibrating with a quiet, dangerous rage.

Agent Vance stepped between my father and the door.

“Stay here, Colonel,” Vance said. “Let me handle this.”

Vance adjusted his jacket and walked out into the corridor.