A stranger beside me on a flight asked, “Could you pretend you fell asleep on my shoulder?” I almost said no. I had just left Chicago with my five-year-old daughter, two suitcases, and a marriage that had fallen apart three days earlier. But I agreed. Two hours later, I woke up still leaning against him—and discovered the quiet man beside me was one of the country’s best-known billionaires. Then my phone reconnected, and a message from my ex-husband appeared: I KNOW YOU TOOK FIONA TO NEW YORK.

child when there is no custody order is not automatically the crime your husband appears to be implying. We need facts. Facts will help us more than panic.”

Facts.

I could work with facts.

“I have a picture of my luggage outside the house.”

“Good.”

“I have his text about finances.”

“Save it.”

“Our front door camera might still be connected to my phone.”

Rachel paused.

“Check without changing or deleting anything.”

I opened the security app.

It still worked.

My thumb shook as I scrolled backward.

There it was.

Wednesday afternoon.

My car pulling into the driveway.

Me trying my key.

Fiona beside me.

Me calling David.

And earlier that day, footage of a locksmith arriving while David stood on the porch.

I stopped breathing.

“Blaire?” Rachel asked.

“I have it.”

“What?”

“The lock change.”

“Download a copy and leave the original account untouched.”

For the first time since