She took her own phone from her pocket and photographed every line on the small screen, one frame at a time.

“He thinks I’m still in the nursery,” she said softly to the dark room.

She turned the burner phone screen off and slid it back into the hiding spot behind the tax folders.

The oak drawer closed with a dull thud that echoed into the empty hallway.

She left the study and walked down the carpeted hallway into the kitchen.

The bottle warmer hummed on the marble counter, its blue display casting a pale square across the dark backsplash.