The living room door flew open before Vanessa could squeeze June’s wrist again.
My voice hit the room harder than I expected. Vanessa jerked around. June tore free and crashed into Mara’s side. Lily was already on her knees by the sofa, pulling out a cracked blue phone with a strip of silver tape across the back.
“I recorded her,” Lily said.
That was the first thing I heard after my daughters’ breathing. Not crying. Breathing. Sharp, quick, controlled, like they’d practiced staying quiet.
Cal stepped in behind me and shut the door. Vanessa tried to smile, but it came too late and sat wrong on her face.

“Ethan, thank God,” she said. “Your daughters are overreacting.”
Lily held the phone toward me with both hands. “She said not to tell you. She said you’d send Mara away if we did.”
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