Gareth gasped, throwing his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sudden glare.

He stumbled backward, almost tripping over a potted fern on the deck.

“Step away from the door, Gareth,” I said.

My voice sounded flat and amplified through the external intercom speaker.

He froze, his head snapping toward the small black dome of the security camera.

“Madeline!” he shouted, his voice cracking with tension. “I know you’re in there!”

He stepped back toward the glass, his face pale and sweating under the bright lights.

“Open the door, Madeline!” he yelled, waving the crowbar. “Just give me the drive, and I’ll walk away!”

“The police are already on their way,” I said into the wall-mounted microphone. “The silent alarm went out two minutes ago.”

“You’re lying!” he screamed, though his eyes darted toward the dark tree line at the edge of the property.

“I don’t lie about my security, Gareth,” I said. “And I don’t negotiate with thieves.”

Behind me, I heard a soft, uneven step on the hardwood floor.

I turned around.

Clara was standing at the edge of the kitchen, her face pale in the dim light.