“Done with what, Nathan?” I asked.

“The company,” he said, his voice steadying.

“Caldwell Systems.”

“It nearly cost me my family.”

“I’m going to resign,” he continued, stroking Emma’s back.

“Formally. Completely.”

“Let the board have the patents. I don’t care anymore.”

“I just want to be their father.”

I reached out and touched his hand.

“They need you, Nathan,” I said.

“They need time to heal.”

“We all do,” he agreed.

The agents were clearing the rest of the house, their flashlights sweeping through the darkened corridors.

Agent Miller stepped back out to speak to his team on his radio.

The silence of the nursery returned, peaceful this time.

Then, the screen on the main console flickered.

The blue pulsing light faded.

A new prompt appeared on the black monitor, the text typing itself out line by line.

*FINAL PROTOCOL INITIATED.*

My breath caught in my throat.

“Nathan,” I whispered, pointing to the screen.

He looked up, his brow furrowing as he read the words.

*DELETING SYSTEM BACKUPS. ZEROING HARD DRIVES.*

“What is she doing?” I asked.

“She’s erasing herself,” Nathan said, his voice thick with emotion.