Lauren shook her head. Graham did, too, though no one had been paying much attention. She was shocked that Graham was covering this up. She’d hurt their baby. Graham had had to wrest Matthew from her grasp. She almost wanted to surrender herself to the police then and there. I think I did a terrible thing. I don’t deserve to live, she wanted to say.

Someone appeared on the other side of a Range Rover that seemed to always be parked in the same spot. After a beat, Lauren realized it was Andrea. Her face was gray, and her hair was mussed, and she was walking with purpose toward the loft.

“Andrea?” Lauren called out. If there was one mom she was okay with seeing, it was her. “You okay?”

Andrea jumped and gave Lauren a distracted wave. “Hey,” she said gruffly. She approached the large locked door that led to the staff’s offices. She stopped and looked at the intercom system, which had no buttons.

“Jesus Christ,” Andrea said through gritted teeth. “I was just here yesterday, and I can’t remember how you buzz in.”

“You’ve had meetings today and yesterday?” Lauren shifted uncomfortably. “Why?”

At first, Andrea’s face was shuttered, but then she slowly licked her lips. “Today’s meeting isn’t exactly arranged. I don’t want to make assumptions, but . . . but I think someone on staff doesn’t want Arthur at Silver Swans.”

Lauren’s mouth dropped open. “W-What makes you say that?”

“Because . . .” Andrea looked cowed. “I found this . . . note in his bag. This drawing, of me. It was cruel. Angry. I swear Arthur didn’t draw it, but the school is insisting he did. Except there’s something fishy. Something they’re hiding . . .” She trailed off and then pressed the lower part of the intercom’s plastic covering. A buzzer rang. “Finally.”

Lauren couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You got a drawing? In your kid’s backpack? And you’re sure your son didn’t draw it?”

“Positive. I know my son. I know him better than anyone. But that director lady, Piper? She tried to convince me that I was wrong.”

“Then I need to tell you something,” Lauren said.

Andrea pressed the buzzer again. “What?”

“The note you got? I—”

“Did I hear something?” Andrea interrupted. She pressed her ear closer to the intercom’s speaker. “For how much money they charge us, this thing is a piece of crap.” She hit the buzzer one more time. A long silence passed. No answer.

Andrea turned back to Lauren then, a strange look on her face. “What were you going to say?”

“I-I got one, too,” Lauren admitted, and then watched as Andrea’s face fell. “I mean—sort of. It was more of a note. But it said I wasn’t wanted here.”

“So did I,” a voice came from behind them.