“Mrs. Bellamy,” Harris began, but the line went dead with a sharp beep.

Harris stared at the phone screen, then looked up at Sarah.

“They aren’t coming back voluntarily,” Sarah said quietly.

“Then we proceed with the warrants,” Harris said.

He handed the phone back to me.

“We have already initiated the contact with the state department and the airport authority,” Harris told me.

“They think their money will protect them, but the law does not care about their resort booking.”

I looked down at Rowan, his tiny chest rising and falling beneath his blue hospital shirt.

His skin was still slightly yellow from the jaundice, but his color was improving.

“How long do we have to wait?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“They are scheduled to return on a direct flight from Nassau to Charlotte Douglas International in three days,” Harris said.

“We will be waiting for them at the gate.”

The door to the room creaked open, and I jumped, my heart racing again.

But it was only Arthur Pendelton, carrying a paper bag that smelled of warm broth and bread.