Liam was holding his stuffed bear.

Chloe had her pink blanket pulled all the way up to her chin.

They were breathing softly, entirely undisturbed by the noise in the hallway.

Gable stood there for a long moment, jotting something down in her folder.

“They appear to be fine,” she said quietly.

She turned around to look at the rest of the loft.

“But there are chemicals here. Solvents. Art supplies.”

“They are locked in a steel cabinet,” I said, pointing to the industrial unit in the corner. “The children have no access to them.”

“We will still have to file a report,” Gable said, pulling a document from her folder. “And there is a custody hearing scheduled for Monday morning.”

She handed me a thick manila envelope.

“You are officially served, Ms. Rivers.”

They left ten minutes later.

The silence they left behind was heavy and suffocating.

I sank onto the edge of the sofa, covering my face with my trembling hands.

The smell of the officer’s wet coat seemed to linger in the air.

“This is Harrison,” I said. “Or Rebecca. Or both.”