Twelve days after I gave birth to twins, my thirteen-year-old stepdaughter poured an entire glass of red punch down my dress in front of twenty-five guests

I snatched the thumb drive from the USB port just as the French door swung inward.

Graham stood in the doorway, wearing his gray sweatpants, his eyes heavy with sleep. But the moment his gaze landed on me sitting behind his desk, the drowsiness vanished.

"What the hell are you doing down here, Eliza?"

I slipped the small metal drive into the deep pocket of my dressing gown, keeping my expression flat and exhausted.

"I came down to get cold water for my medication," I said, pointing toward the bottle of antibiotic pills resting beside his mousepad—a prop I had deliberately carried downstairs. "And I saw your screen was glowing. You left your laptop on."

Graham walked across the room, his eyes scanning the desk, then flicking to the monitor. The screen had bounced back to the desktop wallpaper—a stock image of the Rocky Mountains.

He moved behind me, his hands settling onto the high back of the leather chair. His grip was tight, his knuckles white.

"You shouldn't be wandering around in the dark," he said softly, leaning down until his breath brushed my cheek. "A woman who just had major abdominal surgery ought to be in bed. It looks erratic, Eliza. Walking around the house at midnight while your newborn babies are upstairs crying."

"The babies aren't crying, Graham. Renee is with them."

"Renee isn't their mother," he hissed. "You are. Or at least, you're supposed to be. But you've locked yourself away since four o'clock. You didn't even come down to say goodbye to my mother."

"Your mother told my guests I was hysterical," I replied, standing up slowly and using the desk for support. "You stood there and recorded your thirteen-year-old daughter throwing punch at my surgical incision, Graham. Did you really expect me to serve tea?"

Graham chuckled—a low, condescending sound that made my skin crawl. "You see how defensive you are? You can't even accept criticism. Willa was crying all evening because of how cold you were to her. She told me she’s terrified of you."

"Did she?" I asked, looking straight into his eyes.

"She did," he lied without blinking. "She told me you threatened her upstairs. She said you told her she’d regret embarrassing you."

The sheer audacity of it took my breath away. He was inventing the reality as he spoke, already rehearsing the lines he intended to deliver to a judge in six hours.

"I’m going back to bed," I said, moving toward the door.

He didn't move out of my way. He stood in the doorframe, tall and broad-shouldered, trapping me in the narrow passage.

"Maybe you should check into Baylor University Medical Center for a few days," Graham whispered, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Just for an evaluation. A little rest. I can handle the babies. Candace offered to come over and help with the feedings. She’s an experienced mother, Eliza. She wouldn't mind."

"Candace abandoned Willa seven years ago," I said, each word deliberate and sharp. "She will never touch my children."

Graham’s face twisted into an ugly, triumphant smirk. "We'll see what the court says about that at nine o'clock tomorrow, Eliza. Sleep well."

He stepped aside and let me pass.

I climbed the stairs, my heart thumping against my ribs like a caged bird. The moment I crossed the threshold of the master bedroom, Renee locked the deadbolt behind me.

"Did you get it?" Renee whispered.

I pulled the thumb drive from my pocket and held it up. "Everything. The emails with Candace, the trust fund scheme, the forged affidavit. All of it."

"Good," Renee said, her jaw set hard. "Because we have a problem."

She pointed toward the baby monitor on the dresser. The screen was tuned to the nursery down the hall.

The nursery door was slightly open. On the screen, Graham was standing over Nora’s crib, his phone pressed to his ear.

"They're asleep," Graham was whispering into the receiver. "I packed the diaper bags and put them in the trunk of my car already. The minute Candace arrives with her sister’s SUV at five in the morning, we take the twins. Eliza won't wake up until seven. By the time she realizes they're gone, we'll already have the temporary restraining order signed by Judge Miller’s clerk."

Renee looked at me, terror flickering in her eyes. "He's going to abduct them before the court even opens."

"Not on my watch," I said.

I walked over to the closet, grabbed the heavy canvas duffel bag, and unzipped it.