The day Emily left the hospital, her husband was waiting outside as if she still belonged to him.

The silence of the house in Whispering Pines was heavier than Emily had anticipated. Rachel had arranged for private security guards to sit in an unmarked sedan outside the gates, and the locks on every door had been replaced with biometric keypads within hours of Daniel’s eviction.

Yet, as Emily walked through the nursery—the soft pale-yellow nursery Daniel had painted twice—a wave of phantom grief washed over her. She touched the wooden rail of the white crib. She had picked out the organic cotton sheets, hung the little mobile of clouds and stars, and dreamed of Daniel holding their daughter by the bay window.

*How did ten years evaporate in ten days?* she wondered.

She turned toward the closet. The white knitted blanket Jessica had sent weeks ago was still sitting on the top shelf, pristine and folded. Emily pulled it down, walked into the kitchen, opened the trash can, and dropped it inside without hesitation.

Her phone rang. It was Evelyn Vance.

“Emily, Margaret posted bail an hour ago,” Evelyn said without pleasantries. “Her defense attorney managed to secure an emergency bond hearing using her medical conditions. She’s out.”

Emily stiffened, one hand instinctively moving to her belly. “Is she at home?”

“No. Her attorney instructed her to stay at an extended-stay luxury suite near the courthouse. But Daniel was fired twenty minutes ago.”

Emily paused. “Fired?”

“The managing partners at Sterling & Croft held an emergency executive session,” Evelyn explained. “Once the hospital notified their general counsel about the unauthorized cyber-breach from Daniel’s terminal, the firm had no choice. They fired Daniel for gross ethical misconduct and suspended Jessica Price pending an internal embezzlement audit. Jessica was apparently funneling corporate marketing funds into private accounts to cover her personal credit card debts.”

“So they have nothing left,” Emily murmured.

“They are cornered animals, Emily,” Evelyn warned, her voice unusually grave. “And cornered animals are dangerous. Make sure your sister is with you, keep the security guards alert, and do not open the door for anyone.”

“I understand. Thank you, Evelyn.”

It was 2:15 in the morning when the rain began to fall in sheets against the bedroom window. The storm knocked a heavy oak branch against the roof, waking Emily with a jolt. She sat up, breathing heavily, feeling a dull ache throbbing in the lower portion of her pelvis.

She slipped out of bed, intending to get a glass of water from the kitchen. As she reached the top of the stairs, a flash of lightning illuminated the front foyer below.

Standing outside the French glass doors of the back patio was a dark, soaked figure.

Emily’s heart hammered violently against her ribs. She froze on the landing. Another bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, illuminating the face pressed against the glass.

It was Daniel.

He was soaking wet, wearing only a thin sweater and slacks, his face pressed against the pane like a ghoul. In his hand, he held a heavy iron tire iron.

“Emily…” his voice drifted through the storm, muffled and warped. “Emily, unlock the door! I know you’re in there!”

Panic surged through Emily’s veins, but before she could turn to run toward her bedroom to trigger the panic button, a sharp, violent cramp ripped through her midsection—infinitely stronger than any contraction she had felt before.

A sudden gush of warm fluid spilled down her legs, soaking her nightgown.

Her water had broken. And Clara was coming.