Chloe was sleeping on her stomach, her dark curls splayed across the pillow.

They looked so small, so innocent, completely unaware of the storm gathering outside.

I felt a tear slip down my cheek.

I closed the door gently and walked back to the main room.

Jonathan and Benjamin were whispering by the window.

“The press is already sniffing around,” Benjamin was saying.

“I got a call from a reporter at the *Post* ten minutes ago.”

“They are asking about an anonymous tip regarding a custody dispute.”

Jonathan closed his eyes, his head dropping back against the brick wall.

“It has started,” he whispered.

The phone on the coffee table suddenly lit up, vibrating against the dark wood.

The buzzing sound seemed incredibly loud in the quiet room.

We all stared at it.

The screen showed an unknown number.

Jonathan reached for it, his hand trembling slightly.

He pressed the speaker button.

“Vance,” he said.

“Jonathan, it’s Rebecca,” his wife’s voice came through the speaker, cold and sharp.

“You need to turn on the news right now.”

My heart stopped.