Beaumont,” she said, and there was steel under the calm.

“And I know who your wife’s father is.” She let that sit for just a moment.

“But more importantly, I know what’s inside that stuffed rabbit next to your daughter.” And I watched my husband’s eyes go to the small brown bunny in Lily’s bassinet, and I watched him understand, all at once, that the person he’d spent three years believing was too frightened and too foolish to fight back had been building his ending the entire time.

Chapter 11 — The Recording