1The day my father pulled back the blanket covering my pregnant body, the lies my husband and mother-in-law had buried for months died in a single heartbeat. They had convinced everyone I was weak, emotional, and struggling with pregnancy. They never imagined my father would uncover the bruises they forced me to hide—and they had no idea he wasn't just my father. He was a U.S. Army colonel.

I did not panic. The woman I was three years ago would have packed a bag and fled into the night, terrified of the shadows. But that woman no longer existed. I walked down the porch steps and headed straight for the oak tree where Lily had found the locket.

"Emmy, wait," my father called out, following closely behind me. "We need to call the authorities."

"The authorities thought they killed Silas three years ago," I replied without looking back. "If he survived the warehouse fire, the police won't be able to stop him. He operates completely off the grid."

I reached the large mossy rock. The morning dew had been disturbed. I crouched down, examining the soft dirt surrounding the stone. There it was—a clear, deep footprint of a heavy combat boot. Whoever had left the locket had stood here recently, watching us eat breakfast.

"He was watching us," my father said, his voice tightening with suppressed rage.

"He wants us to know he can get close," I said, standing up and scanning the dense tree line. "It’s a psychological game. He wants me to feel the fear before he makes a real move."

"What do we do?"