They lived in that house because I had allowed it.
And the night they humiliated my children beneath its roof, something inside me locked into place.
When my phone rang, I saw Evelyn March’s name on the screen.
“Claire,” she said when I answered, her voice low and steady. “The documents have been delivered. Mr. Reed and I are at the property.”
I glanced at Emma and Lucas. Lucas shifted in his sleep, one hand curled around the stuffed dinosaur he pretended he was too old to need.
“Are they calm?” I asked.
There was a pause.
“No.”
I almost laughed, but it came out as a breath.
“Is Thomas with you?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
Then Evelyn added, “Your father looks as though he has seen the dead return.”
“He has,” I said softly.
I left the children with my closest friend, Nadia, who arrived twenty minutes later with hot chocolate, overnight bags, and the kind of fury only a woman who loved your children could carry for you. Emma woke briefly as I slipped into my coat.
