“We have them, Vivian,” Grace said, coming to stand beside me. “We actually have them.”

But as I looked down at my daughter, a sudden chill went through me.

Adrian was a man who did not like to lose.

If he found out what his mother was planning to do—and what we had discovered—he would not go quietly.

The phone on Grace’s desk began to ring again, the loud tone echoing in the small space.

Grace walked over and looked at the caller ID.

Her expression hardened.

She did not pick it up, but she turned the screen so I could see it.

It was Adrian’s private number.

The light continued to flash, a bright, relentless red in the dimming afternoon light.

I held Lily tighter, my heart pounding against her small back as the phone kept ringing.

Grace let the phone ring three more times.

Then she picked up the receiver and pressed the speaker button.

Adrian’s voice filled the quiet office, sharp and impatient.

“Vivian,” he said. “I know you are there.”

I did not answer.

Grace leaned over the desk toward the console.