“We have security footage of their stepmother leaving them.”

“That is a matter for the family court, ma’am,” the deputy replied.

“My instructions are to execute this order tonight.”

“They are five years old,” I said.

“They are sleeping. Pushing them into a police car in the middle of the night will traumatize them.”

The deputy shifted his weight, looking past me toward the dark facade of the estate.

For a second, I saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

“The order is signed by Judge Harrison,” he said.

“I don’t have discretion here.”

Behind him, the passenger door of the dark sedan opened.

A woman stepped out into the rain, holding a black umbrella.

She wore a long camel-hair coat and tall leather boots that clicked against the wet pavement.

Even in the dim light, her perfect, frozen posture was unmistakable.

It was Marissa Vale.

She walked slowly toward the gate, a cold smile touching her lips.

“Evelyn,” Marissa said, her voice carrying over the sound of the rain.

“I told you on the phone.”

“You shouldn’t be here, Marissa,” I said, my grip tightening on the iron bars.