At dawn a detective arrived. His name was Marcus Hale, a calm and steady presence whose quiet confidence soothed some of my spiraling thoughts. He listened carefully, then asked how Corwin might have learned about the delivery. Shame crept into my voice when I explained that my aunt in Spain had posted a picture of baby clothes with a caption about her excitement. She had not realized Corwin still monitored anything connected to me.
Marcus took notes and assured me that additional patrols would be assigned. “We are filing the warrant today,” he said. “You will not be left unprotected.”
The next morning the hospital released us under police escort. Raina walked beside me, checking corners and shadowed hallways as though expecting Corwin to appear. The officers guided us to a patrol car, and for a brief moment I felt a wave of relief as the hospital shrank behind us.
That relief shattered the moment we walked into our home.
A piece of paper sat on the kitchen counter. No one had left anything there before we departed for the hospital. The handwriting was unmistakably Corwin’s.
An officer lifted it with gloved hands and unfolded it carefully. His expression hardened.
“He wants you frightened,” he said quietly. “This is a threat.”
The note said that hiding would not save me forever, and that one day the police wouldn’t be there to shield me. A chill crept through me as I realized Corwin had entered the house without leaving any visible trace, likely using a copied key.
Backup arrived. Officers swept every corner of the home. Marcus returned to oversee the investigation. He explained that Corwin’s behavior had crossed from obsession into deliberate escalation. The kind of pattern that required immediate countermeasures.
“You are not facing this alone,” Marcus assured me. “We stay on him until he is in custody.”
Evening settled quietly, yet tension clung to the air. When the neighborhood experienced a brief power outage, my pulse jumped. The emergency lights blinked on moments later, but the darkness had already pierced my nerves.
Raina curled at my side, exhausted from fear she should never have had to feel. Lucan slept in his crib, unaware of how fiercely the world around him was shifting.
As I watched them, I felt something strengthen in my chest. Not anger. Not fear. Something steadier. A promise to protect my children, no matter how long this fight lasted.