“Yes,” I said. “Please. No visitors. If my mother, Diane Mitchell, or my sister, Victoria, show up, do not let them near this wing.”

“I’ll notify the front desk right now,” Lena said. “We can register you under an alias in our patient directory.”

“Do it,” I said. “And please check on the nursery.”

“Your baby boy is perfectly safe,” Lena said, her voice calm and steady. “Nobody gets into the nursery without a biometric scan. I’ll make sure of it.”

She walked to the door, paused, and locked it from the inside before stepping out to speak to the guard down the hall.

I was alone in the quiet room.

The only sound was the low hum of the air conditioning unit beneath the window.

Outside, gray clouds hovered over the hospital parking lot, threatening rain.

I looked down at my phone.

My father had disconnected the main router, but I had a backup system.

Two years ago, when I worked at the DoD, I installed a secondary, cellular-enabled security camera in my home office.

It didn’t rely on the house Wi-Fi.