Eva sat in the living room, Sophia finally asleep in her arms, wrapped in a blanket.

She was covered in dried blood—Alessandro’s, the intruder’s, her own from a dozen minor cuts. She was shaking, the adrenaline crash leaving her hollowed out and raw.

Lyra, her face grim, handed Eva a tablet. “You need to see this.”

On the screen was a press conference. Senator Evelyn Grayson, standing at a podium, her expression one of somber, righteous fury.

“...while we extend our sympathies for ...