“She didn’t know what they meant,” my father said, looking down at his shoes. “But she started asking questions. She was going to go to the federal authorities.”

“So you poisoned her,” I said.

“That wasn’t my decision,” my father whispered.

“It was a necessary precaution,” Hayes said, his eyes cold. “A temporary sickness to keep her quiet until the shipment cleared the harbor. But you had to come home early on leave, Natalie. You ruined the timing.”

The rain lashed against the tall windows of the hallway, a heavy, rhythmic beating.

“Move,” Hayes commanded, gesturing with the barrel of his Sig Sauer toward the end of the corridor. “All of you. Into the security office.”

“Hayes, we don’t have to do this,” my mother said from the doorway, her voice shaking. “We can find another way.”

“Shut up, Carolyn,” my father said. “Get in the office.”

I kept my gun raised as we backed down the hallway.

The wooden floorboards creaked under our boots.

The security office was at the end of the hall, behind a heavy oak door with a digital keypad.