Natalie entered behind me, closing the door. “Feels different, doesn’t it?” she said softly.

“It does,” I admitted. My voice was quieter than I expected, almost reverent. “But it’s not safe yet.”

“No,” she agreed. “But it’s ours to protect. And you’re ready.”

The locksmith started changing locks, each click of the new keys a small victory. The deputy remained nearby until the last lock was secured, then left, leaving only Natalie and me.

I moved through the rooms methodically, checking doors, cabinets, safes. Every point Ethan could have accessed or altered was now fortified. No surprises. No loopholes.