Fast.
Practiced.
Then her eyes flicked to me.
A smile touched her mouth.
Not big.
Not careless.
This one was different.
This one had teeth.
My phone buzzed inside my purse.
Claire saw my face.
“What?”
I did not answer.
I opened the message.
Unknown number.
One photo.
My blood turned cold.
It was a picture of the nursery.
My nursery.
The white walls.
The empty crib.
The little yellow blanket folded over the rocking chair.
And sitting in the center of the crib was a black gift box tied with a silver ribbon.
The message underneath said:
Tell Daddy’s judge to back off, or the baby comes home to nothing.
I looked up.
Savannah was watching me.
Marcus was not.
That was the fifth mini-payoff, but it did not feel like victory.
It felt like a trapdoor.
Because Marcus Vale was cruel.
Savannah Cross was ambitious.
Bennett Ashford was paid to be vicious.
