I was helping my pregnant daughter change for her final ultrasound when her shirt slipped off her shoulders. The boot-shaped bruises covering her back told me her husband had been hiding a nightmare behind his perfect reputation.

The tension in the house was now a physical weight. Julian seemed to sense that something had shifted in the atmosphere, though he couldn't put his finger on it. He began to tighten the screws.

He stopped letting Grace leave the house. He hired a private nurse—a woman named Mrs. Gable, who looked like she’d been carved out of granite—to stay with her 24/7.

"It’s for your safety, darling," I heard him say from the dining room as I walked down the stairs. "The prenatal markers are showing a slight volatility. You need total bed rest."

"I want to go for a walk," Grace said, her voice small. "The doctor said walking is good."

"I am the doctor, Grace," he snapped, his voice dropping into that terrifying, calm register. "And I say you stay."

I walked into the room, forcing a light, breezy laugh. "Oh, Julian, surely she can walk in the garden? The fresh air is good for the circulation. I’ll go with her. Consider it a grandmother's duty."

Julian looked at me. His eyes were like cold, grey slate. He held my gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment, searching for a tremor, a sign of defiance. I didn't give him one. I just kept my smile pleasant and vacant.

"Very well," he said. "But stay within the gates. I have security monitoring the grounds."

As we walked in the garden, I leaned in close to Grace, whispering under the cover of the rustling trees. "I have it, Grace. I have everything. You just have to hold on for two more weeks. When the baby comes, we move."

"He knows, Mom," she whispered, her hands shaking. "He’s been questioning the house staff. Someone told him they saw someone near the junction box."

"Let him wonder," I said, though my blood turned to ice. "He’s looking for a hacker, or a rival. He’s looking for a man. He’ll never think to look at the mother-in-law."

But I was wrong. That night, as I sat in my room, the light in my hallway blinked off. Then the power cut completely.

Julian’s voice boomed from the smart-home intercom system—cold, amplified, and devoid of humanity.