Ethan’s face softened, a rare flash of the father he wanted to be before the grief took over.

“If he files that report, his career is over anyway once the embezzlement comes to light.”

“But what if he is desperate enough to ruin both of you?” I asked.

Ethan didn’t answer right away.

He gently freed his finger from the baby’s grip.

“Then I have to be faster than him,” he said.

He looked back at me, his expression hardening again.

“Grace, the house needs to look perfect starting tonight.”

“I will start on the downstairs now,” I said.

“I will wipe down the kitchen, organize the pantry, and make sure there is no trace of neglect.”

“Keep the baby logs on the counter,” Ethan said.

“If anyone asks, you are a professional night nanny, not just a cleaner.”

“I can do that,” I said.

I stood up from the rocker, the floorboards beneath the rug giving a slight groan.

I walked past Ethan, our shoulders almost brushing in the narrow space between the cribs.

“Be careful, Ethan,” I whispered.