I thanked her and hung up, my hands trembling as I slid the phone back into my pocket.

I looked out the window at the gray Seattle skyline, the rain streaking down the glass.

The city felt cold and indifferent to the collapse of the Harrow dynasty.

Ten minutes later, the intercom buzzed, and the front desk confirmed that Naomi’s security team had arrived in the lobby.

I locked the deadbolt and went back to the kitchen island to sit with my daughter.

For the next two hours, we sat together, the silence broken only by the scratching of Lily’s pencils on paper.

At five o’clock, my phone rang again.

“We have her,” Naomi said, not wasting any time on pleasantries. “Sienna is safe.”

I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for hours.

“Where was she?” I asked.

“She was near the ferry terminal,” Naomi said. “Antoinette’s personal driver had cornered her, but the police arrived before he could force her into the car.”

“Did she have the papers?” I asked.