Walter looked at Logan, a silent, desperate command passing between them.

Logan didn’t look back at his father.

His eyes were glued to his screen, his thumb flying across the glass as he sent another message.

I noticed a faint, ugly twitch at the corner of Logan’s mouth.

He wasn’t panicking like his mother.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and took a slow step backward toward the kitchen doorway.

“We have a misunderstanding here, Deputy,” Walter said, trying to lower his voice to a calm, authoritative register.

“My wife and I were merely trying to secure the property. The baby was never in any real danger.”

“You locked a six-month-old baby out in a blizzard, sir,” Deputy Miller said, reaching for his handcuffs.

“I saw the video playback with my own eyes.”

“It was a mistake,” Patricia pleaded, her face suddenly turning pale.

“The lock stuck. The door catches in the winter.”

Jake pointed to the brass deadbolt on the heavy oak door.

“The camera footage shows Walter physically turning the key from the inside and checking the knob.”