“And that’s not all.”

I pointed toward the tree line near the entrance of the gravel lot.

A black SUV was parked there, barely visible through the thick pines.

A man in a dark jacket sat in the driver’s seat, holding a camera with a long lens.

“That’s David,” I said.

“Lydia hired him the moment we left Connecticut.”

“He’s been documenting every step of my trip.”

“And now he’s documenting yours.”

Julian turned his head slowly, looking toward the SUV.

His jaw tightened.

I could see the muscles in his neck tense under his collar.

“You set me up,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

“You broke the law the moment you drove across the state line to find us,” I said.

“The Connecticut court order is registered here in Maine.”

“Lydia filed the paperwork yesterday morning before I even bought that gas.”

“You are in direct violation of a protection order, Julian.”

“And you did it on camera.”

Harrison let out another small whimper, sensing the tension between us.

I reached over and gently patted his knee through his thick snowpants.