My phone buzzed. A text from Paige: We’re in the car. We’re safe. Do it.

A breath I hadn’t known I was holding rushed out. The hostages were clear.

Chapter 5 — The Voice on the Bookshelf

On the iPad, Lorraine stood alone in the nursery, surveying the empty room, her expression sliding from pleasant to annoyed.

She looked at the spilled water and glass, let out a martyr’s sigh, and turned to leave.

It was time. I tapped the microphone icon to open the two-way audio.

“Don’t bother cleaning that up, Mother.”