Full part: My husband cooked dinner, and right after my son and I ate, we collapsed Pretending to be unconscious, I heard him on the phone saying, “It’s done… soon they will both be gone.”

I kept my cheek pressed against the cold kitchen tile and forced my breathing to stay slow.

A few feet away, my son Noah lay beside his chair, one arm twisted beneath him. I watched the faint rise and fall of his ribs and counted three breaths before I dared look toward the hallway where Daniel had disappeared.

His voice drifted from the den.

I missed several words, but then I heard him clearly.

“They won’t be a problem after tonight.”

Footsteps came back toward the kitchen.