Chapter 6 - Breaching the EstateThe Lake Geneva estate loomed ahead of us like a dark fortress nestled against the churning black waters of the lake. Expansive floor-to-ceiling windows glowed with warm yellow light from the interior, casting long shadows across the manicured lawn.
We left the ATVs hidden deep within the tree line and crept forward on foot, moving with practiced, silent precision under Noah’s direction.
"Emily, stay here with Sergeant Miller in the secondary tree line," Noah whispered, checking the magazine of his sidearm. "I’m going to sweep the perimeter, disable the exterior surveillance grid, and verify the identities of the occupants inside before we make entry."
"No," I said, my voice trembling with fierce maternal resolve. "That’s my child in there. Both of them—one in my arms, one behind those doors. I’m going with you."
Noah looked at me, seeing the steel behind my tears. He gave a sharp, respectful nod. "Stay directly behind me. If things go sideways, drop flat on the ground immediately."
We crept across the gravel pathway, slipping past the disabled security cameras without a sound. Noah slid a master override keycard—retrieved from Ryan’s downtown office—into the side service entrance of the main house.
The heavy oak door clicked open. We slipped inside into a spacious, luxurious kitchen smelling of expensive espresso and vanilla.
From the hallway came the soft sound of a lullaby being hummed.
I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
Creeping silently down the hallway, we peered into the softly lit master nursery. Sitting in a plush rocking chair was a woman with blonde hair, gently rocking a baby girl wrapped in a pink blanket that matched Lily’s word-for-word.
It was the same woman from the bank photograph. Ryan’s legal wife.
"Hush now, sweet girl," the woman whispered softly, stroking the infant's cheek. "Daddy will be home soon to take us away from all this mess."
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Step by step, I stepped out of the shadows and into the doorway.
The woman looked up. Her eyes went wide with sheer terror as she saw me standing there—holding her husband’s other daughter in my arms, mirroring the exact image of the child she held in hers.
