Ivy’s POV

My heart’s pounding so hard I can barely breathe. The apartment’s a wreck-drawers yanked open, couch cushions slashed, the twins’ toys scattered like confetti after a storm. Michael’s stuffed dinosaur lies in the corner, one eye missing. Mia’s favorite blanket is crumpled by the door. And that note, scrawled in sharp, angry letters: *You can’t hide, sister.* My knees buckle, but I catch myself on the counter. My babies are gone.

I fumble for my phone, hands shaking so ...