Cassidy swallowed.

“She’s resting upstairs.”

I noticed the baby monitor lying beside the couch.

Its screen was cracked, and the power cord had been damaged.

My chest tightened.

“Why is Oliver’s monitor broken?”

“It fell,” Cassidy answered quickly.

I started toward the stairs.

She hurried after me.

“Wait! Mom said Rosalie doesn’t want visitors.”

I turned.

“I’m not a visitor, Cassidy. I’m her husband.”

Then I heard something.

A faint sound from upstairs.

Someone calling my name.

The Locked Bedroom

I rushed down the hallway toward our bedroom.

The door was closed.

A heavy padlock had been attached to a metal latch on the outside.

For several seconds, I couldn’t understand what I was seeing.

We had never installed a lock like that.

“Rosalie?”

A weak voice answered.

“Spence?”

I grabbed the latch.

“Honey, I’m here. Move away from the door.”

“Please hurry.”

I forced the damaged latch away from the frame and pushed the door open.

The room was almost completely dark.

The curtains had been drawn, and the heating vent was closed.

Cold air surrounded me.

Rosalie sat on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in a thin blanket.

Oliver was pressed against her chest.

She was holding a small piece of glass from a broken picture frame, apparently the only thing she’d found to help loosen the latch.

Her face was pale.

Her hands trembled.

When she recognized me, her expression changed from fear to disbelief.

“Spencer?”

I dropped to my knees.

“I’m here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

She began crying.

“Please tell me you didn’t know.”

Those words hurt more than anything I’d ever heard.

“Know what?”

“That they locked us in here. That they took my phone. That they wouldn’t let me call you.”

I wrapped my coat around her and Oliver.

“I didn’t know, Rosalie. I swear I didn’t know.”

She held my arm.

“I kept asking them to call you. They said you didn’t want to hear from me.”

I felt something inside me collapse.

The people I’d trusted with my entire world had made my wife believe I’d abandoned her.

What Happened While I Was Gone

As I helped Rosalie onto the bed, she told me what had happened.

The first day, Darlene insisted she didn’t need her prescribed medication as often as the doctor recommended.

Then the prepared meals disappeared from the freezer.

Cassidy began inviting friends over.

When Rosalie complained about the noise, my mother accused her of being ungrateful.

On the second day, Darlene took her phone.

“She said I was upsetting you with all my messages,” Rosalie explained.

My stomach turned.

“You weren’t sending those messages?”

She shook her head.

“I couldn’t. She had my phone.”

When Rosalie tried to call me from the kitchen telephone, Cassidy disconnected it.

Later, she discovered that money had been transferred from our joint emergency account.

Forty-five thousand dollars.

Rosalie confronted them.

That was when everything became worse.

“Your mother said I was confused because I’d just had a baby,” she whispered. “She said nobody would believe me.”

When Rosalie insisted she would tell me everything, they confined her to the bedroom.

She had spent nearly two days trying to keep herself and Oliver warm.

I looked at my wife, still recovering from surgery, and realized how close I’d come to ignoring every warning sign.

“I’m taking you both to the hospital,” I said.

She squeezed my hand.

“Please don’t leave us alone with them again.”

“Never again.”

The Papers Waiting Downstairs

I carried Oliver while supporting Rosalie down the hallway.

At the bottom of the stairs, my mother was waiting.

She looked more irritated than surprised.

“Spencer, you’re making a scene.”

I stared at her.

“Why was my wife locked in our bedroom?”

Darlene folded her arms.

“Because she’s been acting irrationally. I was trying to keep everyone calm.”

“You put a lock on the outside of her door.”

“She needed rest.”

I couldn’t believe how casually she said it.

Then I noticed a folder on the entryway table.

Inside were documents prepared for an emergency custody petition.

My mother’s name appeared as the proposed temporary guardian.

The documents described Rosalie as emotionally unstable and unable to care for Oliver.

I looked up.

“You were trying to take our son?”

Darlene’s expression hardened.

“I was trying to protect him. Rosalie isn’t capable of giving him what he needs right now.”

“She needs medical care and support. She doesn’t need you making decisions about her child.”

My mother stepped closer.

“You have a demanding career, Spencer. Someone responsible has to think about that baby.”

I finally understood.

This wasn’t simply an argument that had gotten out of control.

My mother had been preparing to remove Rosalie from her own family.

And she expected me to agree.

My Sister Finally Told the Truth

Cassidy appeared in the doorway, visibly nervous.

I turned toward her.

“Where did the forty-five thousand dollars go?”

She looked at our mother.

Darlene answered first.

“That’s a private family matter.”

“It came from my account. It’s my business.”

Cassidy’s eyes filled with tears.

“I borrowed it, okay? I was going to pay it back.”

“Borrowed it for what?”

She hesitated.

“I owed people money. I made some terrible financial decisions.”