I never told my parents the truth about who my husband really was. In their eyes, he was simply a disappointment compared to my sister’s successful CEO husband. When I went into labor earlier than expected while my husband was overseas, the pain hi:t hard and fast.

“I know. You’re doing exactly what you need to do. Hear me?”

I pressed my forehead to the floor and nodded, then realized he couldn’t see. “Yes.”

“I have a team en route.”

From London? I almost asked. It made no sense. Time zones, airports, distance—none of it fit. But Ethan did not say impossible things unless he had already solved them.

Somewhere beyond the walls, thunder rolled.

Or maybe not thunder.

At first it was faint, a low rhythmic tremor threaded through the air. My mother turned toward the backyard windows, frowning. My father, now at the door, froze with one hand on the handle.

The sound grew louder.

Deeper.

A chopping roar that made the glass shiver in its frame.

The dogs next door erupted into barking. Leaves whipped sideways across the lawn. The hydrangeas bent violently under a sudden surge of wind.

My mother stepped back from the window. “What is that?”

I already knew.

Even before I saw it.

Even before the shadow swept across the backyard and the enormous black helicopter descended with impossible precision over the grass my father paid a landscaping crew obscene amounts to maintain.

The entire house began to vibrate.