The battle for the Bradford empire was over, but the fight for my children had just begun.

I opened my eyes and looked at the phone screen, watching the empty, rain-swept hallway of my home.

The SUV accelerated into the dark, the engine roaring against the sound of the wind.

I pressed the button to call my lead investigator.

“Find Arthur Vance,” I said the moment he picked up. “And don’t lose him.”

“We’re on it, Boss,” the voice replied.

I hung up, staring out at the flashing lights of the city limits as we crossed the border into Chicago.

The storm was chasing us, but I was no longer running.

I was hunting.

The phone in my hand vibrated one last time, a new email arriving in my inbox from an encrypted address.

The subject line was simple: *The truth about the night you left.*

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen as the car bounced over a pothole.

I tapped the message, the text loading slowly as the signal fluctuated in the heavy rain.

The first line of the email made my blood run cold.