The front door was wide open, the rain blowing inside, wetting the hardwood floor.

But there was no one in sight.

I stared at the empty screen, my heart hammering against my ribs, waiting for any sign of movement.

Then, a shadow fell across the threshold.

A figure stepped into the frame, holding a wet umbrella, looking directly up at the hidden camera.

It was not the nanny, and it was not Vivian’s security team.

It was Arthur Vance.

He held up a white envelope, pressing it against the camera lens so the writing was clearly visible.

It was addressed to me, in Grandfather Bradford’s handwriting.

Arthur smiled, a slow, grim expression, and tapped the lens before stepping back into the rainy night.

I sat in the dark of the speeding car, the silent video feed still playing on my lap.

The pieces were moving faster than I could track, and the alliance I thought I had broken was reforming in the shadows.

I closed my eyes, taking one deep, steadying breath, preparing myself for what was to come.