A loud knock sounded at the door and her eyes darted around the room in panic. "Richard, please—"
But I was already done listening.
Two officers stepped inside.
"Miss Gwen Prescott?" one of them said.
Gwen swallowed hard, her bravado cracking. "This is insane. You can't—"
"We have a warrant for your arrest in connection to the attempted murder of Nita Numero."
I watched as the handcuffs clicked around her delicate wrists.
Gwen whipped her head toward me, her voice shaking. "You'll regret this, Richard."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "No, Gwen. You will regret this."
She screamed at me as they dragged her away, but I didn't flinch. I had wasted too many emotions on her already.
Instead, I turned on my heel, walking toward the nursery upstairs.
The moment I stepped into the room, everything changed. The tension, the anger—it melted.
Because there, in the crib, lay my daughter. I reached down, brushing a gentle finger against her soft cheek.
