His voice was deep and commanding, but I could see his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists.

“Mr. Vance,” Gable said, her eyebrows rising. “I did not expect to find you here.”

“These are my children,” Jonathan said. “They are sleeping safely in their beds.”

“We need to see them,” Gable said.

“You have no warrant,” Benjamin countered.

“We do not need one for a welfare check when a child’s safety is alleged to be at immediate risk,” the male officer replied.

His hand rested casually near his utility belt.

My hands started to shake.

I rubbed them against my jeans, trying to rub away the sudden chill.

“Let them in, Benjamin,” I said.

If I fought them, it would only make me look guilty.

It would feed the exact narrative Harrison was trying to build.

Gable walked past us, her low heels clicking sharply on the hardwood floor.

She smelled of damp wool and cold rain.

I led her to the bedroom door and pushed it open slowly.

The soft nightlight cast a warm orange glow over the small room.