A stranger beside me on a flight asked, “Could you pretend you fell asleep on my shoulder?” I almost said no. I had just left Chicago with my five-year-old daughter, two suitcases, and a marriage that had fallen apart three days earlier. But I agreed. Two hours later, I woke up still leaning against him—and discovered the quiet man beside me was one of the country’s best-known billionaires. Then my phone reconnected, and a message from my ex-husband appeared: I KNOW YOU TOOK FIONA TO NEW YORK.

Then, through the glass doors of the terminal, I saw David.

He saw me too.

His whole face changed.

He started moving toward us.

One of the investigators followed.

Airport security stopped them before they reached the restricted door.

David pointed at me.

Even through thick glass, I knew exactly what he was shouting.

Blaire.

Fiona turned.

“Is that Daddy?”

My stomach tightened.

“Yes.”

“Why isn’t he coming?”

I forced myself to breathe.

“Because we’re going somewhere quiet first.”

She accepted that more easily than I did.

Inside the SUV, Luca sat across from us.

He did not touch me.

He did not tell me everything would be fine.

He handed me his phone.

A woman was waiting on the call.

“My name is Rachel Warren,” she said. “I’m a family-law attorney in New York. Mr. Sterling asked me to help you find immediate counsel in Illinois. Before we discuss anything else, are you and your daughter physically safe?”

“Yes.”