Mira's POV
I sit in my car three blocks from the house, reading the custody papers with shaking hands.
They didn't just write these today. This took months.
Doctor Franklin's signature is dated from two months ago, claiming I showed "signs of severe anxiety and depression that could impact parenting abilities." I saw Doctor Franklin once—ONCE—for a migraine. I told him I was stressed about Lily's school schedule.
They twisted it into mental illness.
Mrs. Patterson from Lily's school signed a statement saying I "seemed distracted and distant at pickup." That was the day I had the flu and wore my pajamas under my coat. I still showed up. I ALWAYS show up.
They made it sound like I was neglecting my daughter.
Three more signatures. A family therapist I've never met. A social worker who "observed concerning behavior." A child psychologist who evaluated Lily without my permission.
They built a case against me while I folded their laundry and cooked their meals.
My phone rings. I don't recognize the number, but I answer anyway.
"Mrs. Kane?" A woman's voice. Professional. Cold. "This is Sandra Mills from Child Protective Services. We received a report about your daughter's welfare. We need to schedule a home visit—"
I hang up.
They're not just taking Lily through court. They're using CPS to make it faster.
My hands won't stop shaking. I try to breathe but can't get enough air. Everything's spinning and I'm going to be sick and—
Stop.
I close my eyes. Count to ten. Then twenty.
I've been stupid. So, so stupid.
For five years, I made myself small because I thought that's what love meant. I got rid of my dreams, my skills, my SELF, because Dominic said wives should focus on family. I wore ugly clothes because Victoria said I shouldn't outshine her son. I stayed quiet at dinners while they talked business because "the men are discussing important things, dear."
I erased myself for people who were planning to erase me anyway.
But they made one mistake.
They forgot that before I was Dominic's wife, before I was Lily's mother, I was Mira Chen—the girl who graduated top of her class in computer science. The girl who could hack into any system by age sixteen. The girl who got job offers from three major tech companies before she met Dominic and gave it all up.
They forgot I'm not actually helpless.
I'm just really good at pretending.
I pull out my laptop from under the passenger seat. It's not the basic one Dominic knows about—the one I use for Pinterest recipes and online shopping. This is the laptop I bought three years ago with money from my own secret bank account. The one loaded with programs that could bring down corporations.
The one I've been using to document everything.
Every late-night phone call between Dominic and Elise. Recorded.
Every hotel charge on the credit card he thought I didn't check. Downloaded.
Every email between Victoria and her lawyers planning this custody trap. Saved.
I've known for four months. Not about the affair—that was today's horror. But about the custody plan. I hacked into Victoria's email after she made a comment at dinner about "fixing the Lily situation." I thought she meant sending my daughter to boarding school.
I had no idea she meant taking her from me completely.
My fingers fly across the keyboard. I need to move fast. They'll change passwords soon, shut me out of everything. But right now, while they're busy congratulating themselves upstairs, I have access.
Bank accounts. Business files. Private emails. I copy everything to an encrypted drive.
Then I see it.
An email from Victoria to her lawyer, sent this morning: "Once Mira signs, take Lily to the Switzerland house until the custody hearing. She won't be able to follow. Her passport expired last year."
My blood turns to ice.
They're taking Lily out of the country.
And my passport—I check my wallet frantically—it's gone. I know I had it last week. I was going to renew it.
Victoria stole it.
I scramble through the rest of the emails, my heart pounding so hard it hurts.
Another message, sent yesterday: "Lily's flight is booked for 6 PM tomorrow. Make sure M signs by noon so we can move quickly."
Tomorrow. They're taking my baby tomorrow.
Unless I sign today and they can move even faster.
I check the time: 2:47 PM. Lily gets out of school at 3:15. The same school that signed papers saying I'm a bad mother. What if they don't release her to me? What if Victoria already called them?
What if I go to pick up my daughter and they tell me I'm not allowed?
My phone buzzes. Text from unknown number: "Stop digging, Mira. You won't like what you find. -V"
She knows I'm in her email. Of course she does. Victoria Kane didn't build a social empire by being stupid.
Another text: "Lily is safe. For now. Sign the papers and she stays safe. Fight us and things get complicated."
That's not a custody threat.
That's a kidnapping threat.
They're not going to wait until tomorrow. They're going to take her TODAY.
I throw my laptop onto the passenger seat and start the car, tires squealing as I pull into traffic. The school is fifteen minutes away. I can make it in ten if I break every speed limit.
My phone rings again. This time I recognize the number—Lily's school.
I answer, my voice cracking. "Hello?"
"Mrs. Kane, this is Principal Morris. I'm calling about Lily."
No. No, no, no.
"What about her?" I can barely speak.
"Her grandmother came to pick her up early. Something about a family emergency? Since Mrs. Victoria Kane is on the approved pickup list, we released Lily to her about twenty minutes ago."
The world stops.
Twenty minutes. Victoria has had my daughter for twenty minutes.
"Mrs. Kane? Are you still there?"
I end the call and dial Victoria's number. It goes straight to voicemail.
I call Dominic. Voicemail.
I call the house. No answer.
I'm driving ninety miles per hour now, weaving through traffic, but I don't know where I'm going. Home? The airport? Where would Victoria take her?
My phone buzzes one more time. A photo message from Victoria's number.
It's Lily. My beautiful baby girl, sitting in a car I don't recognize. She's smiling at whoever's taking the picture, completely unaware.
The message below says: "She's fine. She'll STAY fine if you're smart. Come to the house alone. No police. No lawyers. Sign the papers and you can say goodbye."
Say goodbye.
Like I'm never going to see her again.
My hands grip the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turn white. I'm shaking so badly I can barely see the road.
But underneath the fear, underneath the panic, something else grows.
Rage.
Pure, burning rage.
They think I'm weak. They think I'll crumble. They think I'll sign away my daughter to avoid a fight.
They're about to learn how wrong they are.
I turn the car toward home, but I'm not going there to surrender.
I'm going there to burn their perfect world to the ground.
My phone rings one last time. Another unknown number.
I answer. "What?"
A digitally altered voice speaks: "Mira Chen. We've been watching you. We know what they're doing. We can help."
"Who is this?"
"Someone who believes you're not as helpless as you pretend. Check your email. Username: ShadowQueen. Password: JusticeForMira. Everything you need to destroy them is waiting."
The line goes dead.
I pull over, hands shaking, and open my email on my phone.
The account exists. I log in.
Inside are files. Hundreds of files. Financial records showing Victoria's illegal business deals. Evidence of Dominic's company stealing patents. Proof that Elise has been embezzling from Kane Enterprises.
Enough to destroy all of them.
At the bottom, one more message: "They took your daughter. Take everything they love. -M.S."
M.S.
I don't know who that is.
But they just gave me the weapons I need for war.
I put the car back in drive and head toward the Kane mansion.
This time, I'm not walking in as Dominic's wife.
I'm walking in as their worst nightmare.