“She’s dead,” Julian spat, though his eyes darted nervously toward the ceiling.

“She’s just a bunch of lines of code.”

The front door of the mansion splintered open with a deafening crash.

“Federal agents! Stay where you are!” a voice boomed from the foyer below.

The sound of heavy boots echoed up the grand staircase.

Julian panicked.

He grabbed Vanessa’s arm, dragging her toward the back stairwell.

“We have the offshore accounts,” he whispered loudly.

“We go through the basement.”

But the heavy fire door to the back stairwell slammed shut with a solid, magnetic click.

The red indicator light turned to a solid, mocking lock icon.

“No, no, no!” Julian screamed, throwing his shoulder against the metal door.

It didn’t budge.

The tactical team rounded the corner of the hallway, their weapons raised.

“Drop the laptop! Hands in the air!”

I pulled myself back against the nursery wall, my arms wrapping around Emma and Lily.

Sophie and Grace clung to my knees, their small bodies shaking.

“It’s okay, sweethearts,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the doorway.

“It’s almost over.”