“Or Vivian did,” I said.

The windshield wipers whipped back and forth with a loud, rhythmic screech.

The rain was coming down so hard I could barely see the red taillights of the car ahead of us.

“Why would Vivian go there?” Garrett asked. “She knows the police are coming.”

“She’s desperate,” I said. “She knows she lost the board. She knows she lost you.”

Marcus turned around in his seat, his face dark in the glow of the dashboard.

“There is something else,” Marcus said.

“What?” I asked.

“My contact inside the Bradford legal team sent me a text two minutes ago,” Marcus said.

He showed me his screen, the blue light reflecting in his glasses.

“Vivian’s personal attorneys are preparing an emergency filing,” Marcus said.

“An emergency filing for what?” I asked.

“Sole custody of Leo, Owen, and Wyatt,” Marcus said.

I stared at him, unable to breathe.

“On what grounds?” Garrett demanded.

“She is claiming that Clara is an unstable mother who is holding the children hostage for ransom,” Marcus said.

“That is a lie!” I shouted.