My arms grew heavy, but I did not dare put Noah down until he was completely asleep again.

Once he was settled, I laid him back in his crib and smoothed his blanket.

The baby monitors remained quiet, showing only the steady rise and fall of the green lights.

The door to the nursery clicked.

I froze, my hand reaching for the edge of the crib.

The lock turned slowly, and the door opened a crack.

Ethan slipped inside, shutting the door behind him.

His face was pale, his jaw set in a hard line.

“Are they safe?” he whispered, walking over to my side.

“They are all asleep,” I murmured. “Noah almost woke up, but I managed to quiet him.”

Ethan looked down at his children, his expression softening for a brief second.

“Thank you, Grace,” he said.

“What is happening downstairs?” I asked.

“My lawyers are contesting the warrant,” Ethan said.

“It was signed by a night-court judge who has close ties to Daniel’s legal team.”

“They have thirty minutes to produce the certified copy, or they must leave.”

“But they will be back,” I said.