“Who, Eleanor?” Lorenzo stepped closer, placing both hands flat on the desk, leaning over her.

The wood groaned under his weight.

“I had no choice,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “He told me what they would do to my sister if I didn’t help them.”

“Who is ‘he’?” I asked, stepping up beside Lorenzo.

Mrs. Bellamy looked at me, her eyes hollow and filled with a deep, crushing guilt.

“The security system,” she mumbled, ignoring my question. “He made me log into the master terminal.”

Lorenzo’s gaze snapped to the monitor screens.

Rows of code and red system alerts were cascading down the glass.

“You disabled the perimeter alarms,” Lorenzo said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.

“The main gate, the kitchen entrance, and the nursery corridor,” she whispered.

My heart dropped into my stomach at the mention of the nursery.

“Leo,” I breathed, taking a step back toward the door.

“The baby is safe for now,” Mrs. Bellamy said quickly, reaching out a trembling hand toward me. “He didn’t go up there. Not yet.”