Clara sank back into her chair, burying her face in her hands as she wept soft tears of relief.

Ryker walked over and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“It’s over, Clara,” he said gently. “They are safe.”

“Thank you,” she sobbed, looking up at him. “Thank you both so much.”

I stood up and joined them, wrapping my arms around Clara.

Outside, the gray Chicago rain tapped against the tall windows of the courthouse.

But inside, the air felt lighter than it had in weeks.

An hour later, we arrived back at Ryker’s estate.

The iron gates opened smoothly, and the limousine rolled up the long, winding driveway.

The autumn leaves were damp, clinging to the dark asphalt.

Inside the foyer, Marco was waiting for us.

He had a rare, genuine smile on his face.

“How did it go?” Marco asked as he took our coats.

“We won, Marco,” I said. “They are ours now.”

Marco nodded, a look of quiet satisfaction passing over his features.

“They are upstairs in the playroom,” he said. “Evelyn, they’ve been waiting for you.”