My phone lit up again.

It was not Julian this time.

It was a text from an unknown number.

I tapped the screen to open the message.

The message was short, but it made my stomach drop.

The message was from Lydia.

“Martin Bell just called me,” it read.

“He is on his way to Julian’s house now.”

I tapped another app on my screen, entering a passcode I had memorized weeks ago.

The nanny camera hidden in the bookshelf of Julian’s home study was still active.

I plugged my headphones into the phone and put one earbud in, keeping the other ear free to listen for Harrison’s breathing.

On the screen, the study was dark until Julian walked in and flipped the wall switch.

The overhead chandelier cast a harsh, yellow light over the mahogany desk.

Martin Bell followed him inside, carrying a heavy leather briefcase.

Martin did not sit down.

He stood near the door, his overcoat still damp from the Connecticut rain.

“Sit down, Julian,” Martin said.

Julian did not sit; he paced behind his desk, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.