Michael opened the car door. Cold rain instantly whipped against his face, soaking through his charcoal suit jacket before he even stood up.

By 7:00 AM, the rain had stopped, leaving Greenwich blanketed in a heavy, humid mist.

A black Mercedes SUV pulled up the driveway of the mansion. The door opened, and a fifty-year-old woman with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a simple cardigan, stepped out, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

It was Maria Rodriguez.

Michael met her at the front door. The moment Maria saw Michael, she burst into tears, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Mr. Thompson! Oh God, Mr. Thompson!" Maria wept, stepping into the foyer. "The girls... are the girls okay? Mrs. Thompson... she had guards throw me out yesterday... she took my keys... I tried to call you, but your plane was in the air!"

Michael pulled Maria into a brief, reassuring hug. "They are upstairs, sleeping. They are safe, Maria."

Maria wiped her eyes with a tissue, shaking with indignation. "She is a monster, Mr. Thompson! She and Mr. Vance... they have been meeting at the house while you were in Tokyo. When I threatened to call the police yesterday because they were packing the girls' things into garbage bags, Mrs. Thompson screamed at me and called security. I’ve been sitting in my car at the end of the street all night, praying you would come home!"

"You stayed nearby all night?" Michael asked, touched by her devotion.

"Of course I did!" Maria insisted. "I raised those sweet girls! Mrs. Thompson never cared about them! To her, they were just props for her social media and excuses to demand more money from you!"

"Come upstairs," Michael said softly. "They need to see you."

When Maria walked into the master bedroom, seven-year-old Sophie was just waking up. The moment the little girl saw her beloved nanny, she scrambled out of bed and threw herself into Maria's arms.

"Maria! You came back!" Sophie cried.

"I will never leave you, my sweet girl," Maria sobbed, kissing Sophie's cheeks. "Never again."

Michael stood by the window, watching his daughter find comfort. His phone buzzed in his hand. It was a text from David Sterling.

FBI Cyber Division has tracked Richard Vance’s passport. He and Victoria boarded a private charter flight from Teterboro Airport to Geneva, Switzerland last night at 11:00 PM. They landed two hours ago.

Michael looked down at the screen, a dark, calculating calm settling over him.

Switzerland had strict banking privacy laws, but they also had extradition treaties for major financial fraud and child abuse charges.

"Maria," Michael said, turning around. "Can you take the girls to my sister’s beach house in Rhode Island? It's private, gated, and nobody knows where it is."

Maria looked up, her face determined. "I will protect them with my life, Mr. Thompson."

"Daddy?" Emma asked, sitting up in bed, looking at him with worried blue eyes. "Where are you going?"

Michael walked over to the bed, kneeling down so he was eye-to-eye with his oldest daughter. He gently brushed a strand of blonde hair from her forehead.

"Daddy has to go clean up a very big mess," Michael said gently. "I'm going to bring back what belongs to us. And then we are going to start a new life. A life where no one ever hurts us again."