I mean every word, too, just like I meant them the first time I said them—in this very same room even, after I brought him coffee and a muffin so he could take a break from installing the nanny cams. Sebastian—Bas—came highly recommended by none other than Tanya across the street. The neighbor who’s always picking up our mail. Bills, junk, bank account statements. What we’ve always assumed was a friendly gesture was her way of keeping tabs.

But the more pressing point is, Sebastian knows about the cameras. He’s known it all along.

Not only that.

He spent an entire day up here, banging around the playroom, drilling holes in the ceiling and walls, pointing out the best placement for maximum visibility, upselling me on products that were top-of-the-line, quizzing me on my security system because “maybe it’s time for an upgrade.” He even installed the nanny cam app on my phone, then dragged it onto the third page, so it would be with all the other house stuff.

And today, he chose this room. He brought us here on purpose. Strapping the kids to the couch, questioning me about Cam, ordering me around. Even where he’s standing now, one foot planted on the corner of the rug, his body pointed into the room, puts his uncovered face in all three shots. Everything about this seems intentional.

He wants Cam to see. He wants him to watch what’s about to happen on his little screen while he’s rushing to get here with the ransom.

“But that won’t help you with your hospital bill. A pile of cash that big will be a red flag. You’ll get caught. What happens when the police show up at your door? They’ll confiscate the money, and then where will you be? Who will help Gigi then?”

“She’ll be fine. At home with a new set of lungs.”

“But how? You just told me her insurance won’t pay for the transplant unless you can pay for the antirejection drugs.”

“It’s taken care of. I’ve taken care of it. And we’re getting off track. Let’s not forget that I wouldn’t be standing here if Cam had kept up his end of the deal. He owes me this money.”

Frustration rises, hot and choking in my chest. “You’ll get arrested! There’s got to be a better way.”