I gripped the metal handrail beneath the mirror, my knuckles turning white in the dim light.

“He’s lying,” I whispered to Arthur.

Arthur didn’t say anything, but his large hand found my shoulder and squeezed it gently.

Through the speaker, Landon kept talking, his words spilling out in a frantic, desperate rush.

“My mother is very controlling, detective,” Landon said. “She insisted we needed this trip to save our marriage. She bought the tickets, she booked the villa, she did everything.”

“And the baby?” Miller asked, his voice entirely flat.

“She told me Marissa had everything under control,” Landon said. “She told me the nanny was coming. I didn’t know the nanny had been canceled.”

“You didn’t check on your three-day-old son before you left for the airport?” Miller asked.

“I tried to,” Landon said, a tear finally escaping his eye and rolling down his dusty cheek. “But Patricia was rushing me. She said we’d miss the flight, and I was just so exhausted from the stress. I trusted her.”

Detective Harris leaned against the wall next to me, holding his glowing tablet.