I spun around.

For one terrifying second, I expected to see Grace.

Instead, Martin stepped out of the shadows.

The old butler’s hands were shaking.

“Sir…”

His voice barely existed.

“You shouldn’t have come in here while she was still downstairs.”

I stared at him.

“What is this room?”

Martin lowered his head.

“I tried to stop her.”

My heart pounded.

“What happened to my wife?”

Before he could answer, footsteps echoed down the hallway.

My mother.

She stopped in the doorway.

For the first time in my life, Evelyn Caldwell looked genuinely unsettled.

“You had no right to force that door.”

I ignored her.

I pointed toward the bed bolted to the floor.

“What is this?”

“It was necessary.”

The words chilled me.

“Necessary?”

“She became unstable.”

I looked at the scratches covering the walls.

Dozens.

Hundreds.

Every line written with the same desperate sentence.

Ethan… your mother says you don’t want us.

“You call this unstable?”

“She refused to cooperate.”

“She was pregnant.”

“She became emotional.”

“She was imprisoned.”

My mother folded her arms.

“It was for her own safety.”

I felt something inside me break.

“For her safety?”

“She tried to leave.”

“So you locked her up?”

“She wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Martin suddenly spoke.

“She begged me to call you.”

The room became silent.

My mother turned sharply toward him.

“Martin.”

“You told me not to.”

“I gave you employment.”

“You also asked me to lie.”

He looked directly at me.

“Mr. Caldwell…”

“She cried every night.”

“She kept asking why you never answered.”

“I did answer.”

I pulled out my phone.

Every message.

Every missed call.

Every voicemail.

“They disappeared.”

Martin nodded slowly.

“Mrs. Caldwell collected her phone every evening.”

My mother interrupted.

“She needed rest.”

“You answered her messages?”

“She wasn’t capable.”

“You pretended to be my wife.”

“She was upsetting you.”

I stared at the woman who had raised me.

“How many of those messages…”

“…were written by you?”

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t have to.

The silence confessed everything.

I rushed toward the bedside table.

One drawer.

Locked.

I tore it open.

Inside lay Grace’s phone.

Still powered off.

My hands trembled as I pressed the button.

The battery slowly came to life.

When the screen unlocked…

One hundred and forty-three unsent messages appeared.

Every single one addressed to me.

Ethan, please come home.

Your mother won’t let me leave.

She says you don’t want this baby.

I’m scared.

Please believe me.

The first message had been sent eighteen days earlier.

None had ever left the phone.

I couldn’t breathe.

“She begged for help.”

My voice sounded unfamiliar.

“She begged me.”

My mother remained frighteningly calm.

“She was dramatic.”

“She was imprisoned!”

“She needed discipline.”

“She was carrying your grandson.”

“She was carrying an heir.”

The word made my blood run cold.

“An heir?”

My mother finally revealed the truth.

“Our family has responsibilities.”

“She wanted to leave Caldwell House.”

“She wanted a small apartment.”

“She wanted to raise my grandson away from this family.”

“She was turning you against your legacy.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

“You locked up my wife…”

“…because she wanted to move?”

“She was destroying everything your father built.”

“My father died twenty years ago.”

“His expectations didn’t.”

I stepped toward her.

For the first time in my life…

I no longer saw my mother.

Only the woman who had stolen six months of my marriage.

“Where is Grace?”

“She left.”

“When?”

“Eleven days ago.”

“How?”

“She escaped.”

“Escaped?”

“She broke the bathroom window.”

Martin quietly spoke again.

“She didn’t escape alone.”

I looked at him.

“The gardener helped her.”

My mother closed her eyes.

“I fired him.”

“Where did they go?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“I truly don’t know.”

She sounded irritated.

Not guilty.

“She refused every offer to stay.”

“She said she’d rather raise the baby anywhere than inside this house.”

I felt physically sick.

Every night I had believed Grace was sleeping peacefully.

She had actually been scratching messages into a wall.

Every call I thought she had ignored…

…she had never received.

Every promise I made about coming home…

…my mother had hidden from her.

Then my phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

I answered immediately.

“Hello?”

For several seconds…

Only breathing.

Weak.

Uneven.

Then a voice I hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Ethan…”

My knees almost gave way.

“Grace?”

She began crying.

“I didn’t know if you’d ever hear me.”

“Where are you?”

She hesitated.

Then whispered six words that turned every drop of blood in my body to ice.

“She found me again.”

The line suddenly went dead.

At that exact moment, Martin looked toward the security monitor in the hallway.

His face turned completely white.

“Sir…”

“What?”

He pointed silently at the screen.

A black SUV had just entered the front gates.

My mother’s personal security team had returned.

Except…

Grace was sitting inside the back seat.

Her hands were bound.

And someone was forcing her back toward the house.