The night felt endless.
I couldn’t sleep. I lay curled against Daddy’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat while my own raced wildly. The baby was restless too, kicking with sharp, insistent movements that made me wince. Every sound outside — every wave, every gust of wind — made me tense, waiting for the moment the authorities would arrive.
Dawn was coming.
Daddy hadn’t slept either. His arm was wrapped tightly around me, one hand resting on my belly as if shielding our child from the world. His body was tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap.
“You’re not sleeping,” he murmured, voice low in the darkness.
“I can’t,” I whispered. “They’ll be here soon. Harrington. The police. What are we going to do?”
He rolled us so he was hovering over me, his gray eyes burning even in the
