a perfect stack beside a ceramic mug.

Prenatal vitamins stood on the kitchen counter beside a bowl of apples.

Nathan picked up the vitamin bottle.

The foil seal beneath the cap was intact.

“These new?”

Derek glanced over.

“Backup bottle.”

Nathan placed it down.

His gaze moved toward the staircase.

A small black camera was mounted high in the corner near the ceiling, pointed toward the stairs.

“Security problem?” Nathan asked.

Marissa answered first.

“Package theft.”

“Inside the house?”

She hesitated.

“Derek moves it around.”

Nathan said nothing.

He climbed the stairs.

Behind him, Derek said, “She really needs quiet.”

Nathan kept walking.

The bedroom door was nearly closed.

He knocked once.

“Claire?”

No answer.

He pushed the door open.

His sister was sitting upright against the headboard, wrapped in an oversized gray cardigan although the room was warm.

Her hair was tied back loosely.

Her face looked thinner than it had six weeks earlier.

But what disturbed Nathan most was her reaction to seeing him.

She looked relieved.

Then terrified.

“Hey, kid,” he said.

Her eyes filled instantly.

Nathan closed the door halfway behind him and sat beside her.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t do that.”

Claire stared at her lap.

“I’m just tired.”

He reached for her hand.

She flinched.

Nathan froze.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Then why did you pull away?”

Claire covered her hands with her sleeves.

The bedroom door opened wider.

Derek stood there.

“Nathan, she needs to rest.”

Nathan didn’t turn around.

“We’ll talk downstairs in a minute.”

“I think you should go now.”

Claire’s breathing changed.

Nathan heard it.

He looked at her face.

Her eyes had gone to Derek.

Not lovingly.

Not irritably.

Fearfully.

Nathan stood.

“Derek, leave the room.”

Derek laughed once.

“This is my bedroom.”

“Leave.”

Marissa came to the doorway.

“Nathan, you’re upsetting her.”

Claire whispered, “Please stop.”

Nathan immediately softened.

“Stop what?”

She swallowed.

“If you keep asking questions, you’re going to make everything worse.”

Derek’s posture relaxed slightly.

Nathan saw it.

That small reaction told him more than any confession could have.

“Worse for who?” Nathan asked.

Claire shut her eyes.

Marissa crossed her arms.

“She’s been like this for weeks.

Dramatic, paranoid, accusing everyone of controlling her.

Pregnancy can affect mental health.

You should know that.”

Nathan turned slowly.

“What exactly has she accused you of?”

Marissa blinked.

“I didn’t mean—”

“You said she was accusing everyone.

Of what?”

Derek interrupted.

“Enough.”

Nathan stepped toward him.

“You’re right.

Enough.”

The room changed.

Derek was used to Claire lowering her voice, apologizing, retreating.

Nathan did none of those things.

Yet Nathan wasn’t shouting either.

That made him harder to manipulate.

He returned to Claire’s bedside.

“Show me your hands.”

Her face drained of color.

“Nathan.”

“Please.”

She shook her head.

Derek stepped forward.

“This is ridiculous.”

Nathan raised one hand without looking back.

“Stay there.”

Claire began to cry silently.

Nathan hated the sight of it, but he did not rush her.

After almost a minute, she pushed her sleeves up.

There were marks around both wrists.

Not one accidental bruise.

Several.

Different ages.

Different colors.

Nathan’s jaw tightened.

“How did this happen?”

Claire stared at the blanket.

“I fell.”

Marissa said, “Exactly.

She fell in the bathroom.”

Nathan looked at her.

“I didn’t ask you.”