"My eight-month-old triplets were screaming inside the most protected room in my estate, and every doctor swore there was nothing medically wrong with them. Then a four-year-old girl pointed above their cribs and whispered, “It’s the whistle”—and when we found the hidden device, the authorization record carried the name of the one woman I trusted most.

The guest cottage was located near the edge of the estate, surrounded by thick pine trees and high stone walls.

When Daniel and I unlocked the door, Rosa was sitting on the sofa in the dark, holding a sleeping Emma in her lap. She looked up, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

"Ethan," Rosa whispered, standing up carefully so as not to wake her daughter. "Please tell me you believe me."

"I want to believe you, Rosa," I said quietly. "But Victoria’s lawyer just showed up at my gate with a custody petition citing the acoustic attack. The only way she could have known about that so fast is if someone inside this house called her."

Rosa looked genuinely bewildered. "Victoria? Miss Claire’s sister? I haven't spoken to her in three years!"

"Search the room," I told Daniel.

Daniel moved through the small cottage with practiced efficiency, opening drawers, searching closets, and checking behind books. Rosa stood motionless, tears streaming silently down her face as she held her daughter.

"Ethan, I loved Claire," Rosa choked out. "When she died, part of my heart died with her. I look at Noah, Liam, and Grace, and I see her eyes. I would never hurt them. You have to know that!"

"Found something," Daniel called out from the back bedroom.

I walked into the small master bedroom. Daniel was holding a sleek, silver burner phone he had pulled from the bottom of Rosa’s nightstand drawer.

He tapped the screen. There was only one number in the recent call history—an outgoing call placed yesterday afternoon at 2:20 PM.

Just six minutes after the ultrasonic device was installed in the nursery.

I took the phone, my fingers trembling as I hit redial and put it on speaker.