The twenty-fourth week, the threat became real.
Not to them.
To her.
And everything changed.
---
Christabel stared at the photograph of her daughter.
Taken from outside the penthouse.
Lena in the nanny's arms. Lena by the window. Lena laughing at something Christabel couldn't see.
Someone had been watching.
Someone had been waiting.
Someone had been planning.
"We need to leave," Christabel said.
"Leave where?"
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere they can't find us."
"They'll find us everywhere."
"Then what do we do?"
Damien took the photograph.
His hands were steady.
His face was calm.
"We fight."
---
The next few days were a blur.
Security was doubled. Then tripled. Then quadrupled.
The penthouse became a fortress.
No one came in or out without being searched.
No one went near Lena without being vetted.
No one slept.
---
Christabel stopped going to work.
Stopped leaving the penthouse.
Stopped doing anything except watching her daughter.
Every breath. Every movement. Every sound.
She was terrified.
And terror was making her crazy.
"You need to sleep," Damien said.
"I can't."
"You haven't slept in three days."
"I can't sleep."
"The baby is safe."
"You don't know that."
"The guards—"
"The guards didn't stop someone from taking a photograph of our daughter."
---
He pulled her into his arms.
Held her tight.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to her."
"You can't promise that."
"I can."
"How?"
"Because I'll die before I let anyone hurt her."
She pulled back.
Looked at him.
"I don't want you to die."
"Then I won't."
---
That night, Lena woke at midnight.
Crying. Hungry.
Christabel went to her.
Lifted her from the crib.
"Hi, baby," she said.
Lena cried.
"I know," Christabel said. "You're hungry. You're wet. You're cold. I'm sorry. Mommy's scared."
Lena stopped crying.
Looked up at her mother.
"Someone took a photograph of you. Someone who wants to hurt our family."
Lena cooed.
"I'm not going to let them. I'm going to protect you. No matter what."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's up," he said.
"She's hungry."
"I'll make a bottle."
"She wants to nurse."
He walked to her.
Sat on the floor beside the rocking chair.
"I've been thinking," he said.
"About what?"
"About who's behind this."
"And?"
"And I think it's someone we know. Someone close. Someone who has access to our lives."
"Like who?"
"I don't know yet. But I'm going to find out."
---
Lena finished nursing.
Fell asleep against Christabel's chest.
"She's out," Christabel said.
"She's perfect."
"She's ours."
Damien stood.
Took Lena from her arms.
Laid her in the crib.
Then he walked back to Christabel.
Took her hand.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"The study."
---
He showed her the files.
Not the old ones. The new ones.
The investigation he had been running since the photograph of Lena arrived.
"I've been looking into everyone," he said. "Everyone who works for us. Everyone who lives near us. Everyone who has ever been in this penthouse."
"And?"
"And I found something."
He pointed to a name.
Christabel stared.
"That's the nanny."
"That's the nanny."
"The woman who takes care of our daughter?"
"Yes."
"Why would she—"
"I don't know. But she's been acting strange. Nervous. Avoiding me."
"Have you talked to her?"
"Not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I wanted to talk to you first."
---
The next morning, Christabel confronted the nanny.
Not Damien. Her.
She called the woman into the living room.
Closed the door.
"Someone took a photograph of my daughter," Christabel said.
The nanny's face went pale.
"From outside the penthouse. While you were watching her."
"I don't know anything about that."
"Someone had access to her. Someone who knew when she was by the window."
"I didn't—"
"Who else has been in this penthouse? Who else has been near my daughter?"
The nanny was quiet for a moment.
"Your sister."
---
Christabel's blood went cold.
"Sarah?"
"She comes by sometimes. When you're not here. She says she wants to see the baby."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"She asked me not to."
"And you listened to her?"
"She's your sister. I thought—"
"You thought wrong."
---
Christabel called Sarah.
"Come to the penthouse."
"I'm at work."
"Come to the penthouse."
---
Sarah arrived an hour later.
Christabel was waiting in the living room.
Damien stood by the window.
"What's going on?" Sarah asked.
"The nanny said you've been coming to see Lena. When I'm not here."
Sarah's face didn't change.
"I have."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you've been so stressed. I didn't want to bother you."
"Bother me?"
"You've been dealing with so much. The threats. The letters. I thought I was helping."
"By keeping secrets?"
"I wasn't keeping secrets. I was visiting my niece."
---
Damien walked to them.
"The photograph of Lena," he said. "Was it you?"
Sarah stared at him.
"Was it me?"
"Someone took a photograph of our daughter. From outside the penthouse. Someone who knew when she was by the window."
"You think I took it?"
"Did you?"
"No." Sarah's voice was firm. "I would never do anything to hurt Lena. She's my niece. I love her."
"Then who did?"
"I don't know."
---
Christabel looked at her sister.
Her face. Her eyes. Her hands.
She had known Sarah her whole life.
She had never known her to lie.
"I believe you," Christabel said.
"Thank you."
"But someone in this building is working against us. Someone close. Someone we trust."
"I'll help you find them."
"I know you will."
---
That night, Damien put Lena to bed.
Not Christabel. Him.
He read her a story. Not a baby book. A real story. One of his favorites.
"There was a man who was afraid of losing everything," he read. "Until he realized that the only thing he couldn't lose was the love of his family."
Lena stared at him.
"Bah," she said.
"That's right," he said. "Bah."
---
Christabel was in the doorway.
"She said it again."
"She said it to me."
"She said it to both of us."
He closed the book.
Set it on the nightstand.
"She's going to be brave."
"She's going to be just like you."
"God help the world."
"God help anyone who tries to hurt her."
---
They stood over the crib together.
Lena was asleep. Her tiny chest rose and fell.
"We're going to find whoever did this," Christabel said.
"Yes."
"We're going to make them pay."
"Yes."
"We're going to protect her."
He put his arm around her.
"No matter what.