When I let myself into the apartment, the quietness of the space enveloped me.

Lily was sitting at the kitchen island, drawing a picture with her colored pencils.

“Look, Mommy,” she said, holding up a drawing of a small, bright house.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” I said, hugging her tightly.

My phone vibrated violently in my coat pocket.

I pulled it out, expecting to see Naomi’s name on the screen.

Instead, it was an unknown number.

I hesitated, then swiped the screen to answer.

“Amelia,” a voice whispered on the other end, raspy and breathless.

It was Sienna Cole.

“Sienna?” I asked, my grip tightening on the phone.

“They know where I am,” she gasped, the sound of wind and traffic loud in the background.

“Who knows?” I asked, my heart stopping.

“Antoinette,” she whispered. “She sent someone. I have the papers, Amelia. You have to—”

The call abruptly cut out, replaced by a sharp, static hiss.

I stared at the screen of my phone, the silence of the apartment suddenly feeling heavy.

“Mommy?” Lily asked, holding up her green colored pencil. “Are you okay?”