“She is with me, Adrian,” I said, keeping my voice as flat as I could. “Where she belongs.”

“You have twenty minutes to get to Grace’s office,” he said.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” I told him.

“You don’t know anything,” he snapped.

“I know the trust is locked,” I said. “I know Margaret has the keys.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

I could hear the faint sound of windshield wipers scraping against glass in his background.

He was driving, too.

“If you think my mother is going to protect you, you are stupider than I thought,” Adrian said.

“She isn’t protecting me,” I said. “She is protecting the Whitmore name.”

“I am the Whitmore name,” he hissed.

“Not for much longer,” I said, and hung up the phone.

My fingers were shaking so hard I almost dropped the device onto the floor of the cab.

Grace looked out the window at the blurred grey buildings of Manhattan.

“He is running out of options,” she said quietly.

“What will he do?” I asked, clutching Lily tighter against my chest.