Chapter 12
I explained what David had found. I watched Emily’s eyes widen — not with triumph, but with a profound, exhausted sadness. She didn’t gloat. She just looked at the sleeping form of our daughter.
“They threatened to take Lily because they thought they could extort us to bail them out next,” I said, the pieces clicking into place. “They were going to use a CPS investigation to force me to open my wallet.”
We packed up, drove back to our small, quiet home, and locked the doors. For two weeks I ignored the barrage of texts, the fake-concerned voicemails from Aunt Carol, the veiled threats from Robert.
I gathered every piece of financial documentation Dave could legally source. I built a fortress of paper.
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Then, on a freezing Tuesday afternoon in mid-January, the motion-sensor alert on my phone chimed.
I looked at the camera feed. A sleek black Range Rover had just aggressively parked in my driveway, blocking my sedan.
