My mother-in-law planned to take my newborn son away before he was even born.

We did not stay at the cabin.

Sarah drove. Slowly. Carefully. Holding an ice pack to the back of her head. I watched the road behind us constantly. Every set of headlights made my heart race.

Ryan had been there. He had come to force my hand. He had pretended to be Diane. He had threatened me. He had hurt Sarah.

And yet... he had left the photograph. On the table. Where I would see it.

Why? To taunt me? Or to warn me?

I pulled the photograph from my pocket. I turned it over. Two against one. Always.

Diane had written that. Years ago. Teaching her son that they were a team. That anyone else—wives, children, outsiders—was the enemy.

That was how she had raised him. Not as a son. As an ally.

And now I was the outsider.

"We need to call Elena," Sarah said. Her voice was thick. "We need to tell her everything."

We found signal ten miles down the road. I called Elena. I told her about the messages. About the cabin. About Ryan. About the photograph.

Elena listened in silence. When I finished, she spoke quickly and clearly.

"He took the original documents?"

"Yes."

"Then he knows what they prove. He knows that letter destroys their case. Which means he is going to destroy it. Or hide it. Or claim you forged it." Elena paused. "But he didn't take your copies. He didn't take the photograph. He didn't take the evidence from Diane's computer."

"He didn't get the chance," I said. "He came to scare me. Not to search."

"Which means he is desperate," Elena said. "If he were confident... he would have filed already. He would have had you served. Instead... he came to threaten you. To scare you into surrender. That tells me he knows he cannot win fairly."