“If Vale has a secret archive, Marcus will find a way in.”

I sat down at the table, staring at the custody agreement.

The text was cold, formal, and utterly devastating.

It referred to my daughters as “the minor children” and to me as “the biological mother.”

It stripped away every right I had.

“I can’t sleep,” I said.

“Go rest, Emily,” Richard said, his voice softening.

“Mrs. Alvarez is with the girls. They are safe here.”

“I will stay up with Nora and work on this.”

I knew he was right, but my mind was spinning too fast.

I walked upstairs to the girls’ room.

The hallway was quiet, lit only by a nightlight.

I opened the door to their bedroom and stepped inside.

Olivia and Grace were asleep in the twin beds, their breathing slow and rhythmic.

Lily was curled up in the small toddler bed in the corner, her thumb in her mouth.

They looked so innocent, so completely unaware of the storm.

I knelt beside Lily’s bed and gently smoothed her hair.

“I won’t let her take you,” I whispered.