Outside, the gray sky hung low over the rocky beach.

The tide was coming in, foaming against the dark stones.

I went to the living room and picked up Harrison’s plastic toy truck.

I placed it in the toy basket by the cold stone fireplace.

My hands were shaking.

I tried to breathe slowly, the way the therapist in Stamford had taught me.

In for four seconds. Hold. Out for four.

The phone on the counter buzzed again.

This time it was an email notification.

I opened it.

It was from Lydia, forwarding a document from Martin Bell.

Subject: *Draft Settlement Agreement – CONFIDENTIAL*.

I opened the PDF attachment.

The terms had shifted entirely.

In the previous draft, Julian had demanded joint physical custody and forty percent of the remaining liquid assets.

Now, the document lay bare his total surrender.

Sole physical custody to me.

Supervised visitation only.

Eighty percent of the marital estate transferred to a trust for Harrison.

But there was a clause at the bottom.

*Under no circumstances shall the evidence provided by Isabel Vance be released to federal or state authorities.*