“Ma’am,” the guard whispered, his voice trembling. “You need to see this.”

Victoria snatched the phone from the guard’s hand.

Her eyes scanned the screen, the blue light reflecting off her sharp cheekbones.

“What is this?” she whispered.

I watched her face turn from cold confidence to pale disbelief.

“The feed is active,” the guard said, his voice cracking in the damp air of the warehouse.

“Who authorized this?” Victoria barked.

She turned to Julian, who was standing near the back of the warehouse by the stacks of wooden crates.

Julian took a step forward, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Julian, did you leave your device on?” Victoria asked, her voice sharp as ice.

“No, Mother,” he said, still using the title that did not belong to him.

“It is not Julian’s device,” I said.

I pulled my hand out of my coat pocket.

I held up the small black phone.

The green light on the top corner was solid now, indicating a secure, uninterrupted connection.

“The baby shower link,” I said, my voice steady despite the trembling in my knees.

Victoria’s eyes locked onto my phone.