He knew it was over.

“They are going to freeze if the heating cuts out in that zone,” I noted, watching the temperature readouts drop on the screen.

“The system will keep them alive,” Nathan said. “But only just.”

We heard a soft beep from the nursery wall panel.

The red warning screen cleared, returning to the standard home interface.

A small text box popped up in the center of the screen, written in Claire’s clean, simple font.

*The girls are safe now, Nathan.*

Nathan closed his eyes, his shoulders dropping as if a massive weight had been lifted from his chest.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension slowly leave his frame.

Below us, the faint sound of the blizzard continued to howl against the reinforced walls of the mansion.

Suddenly, a sharp, static hiss came from the primary intercom system on the wall.

It wasn’t Vanessa’s voice this time.

It was a deep, synthesized hum, followed by a rhythmic clicking sound that didn’t belong to the house’s standard programming.

The security camera feed showing the atrium suddenly went completely black.