“He knows where Daniel’s financial vulnerabilities are. I need to find the leverage to stop that CPS report before it gets filed.”

We walked out into the grand hallway.

The marble floor was cold beneath my thin-soled shoes, the chill of the Lake Forest night seeping through the stone.

The house felt too large, the shadows stretching up into the vaulted ceiling like silent observers.

I turned toward the back stairs leading to the nursery wing.

“I will check on the infants first,” I said.

Ethan paused at the foot of the stairs, looking up at me.

“Thank you, Grace.”

I climbed the carpeted steps in silence, my soft shoes muffling any sound.

At the top of the landing, the air was warmer, smelling faintly of baby powder and fresh laundry.

I pushed open the heavy oak door to the nursery.

The nightlight cast a soft green glow across the room.

Four white cribs stood in a neat semi-circle in the center of the room.

I walked to the first crib on the left.

Little Liam was asleep on his back, his tiny chest rising and falling in a steady, reassuring rhythm.