“Alright,” she said, voice steady. “We’ll get the locket. But first, we need to secure the box. I’ll call my old friend Maya—she still works security for the bank. She can help us with the safe. And you—don’t do anything rash. We’ll go together, and we’ll make sure Aaron can’t hurt anyone else.”

“Only if you promise to write about today’s fraction problem tomorrow,” Giselle replied, handing her a wooden spoon.

She crossed the distance between them in a few steps, her mind already cataloguing potential threats, safety measures, and escape routes. “What happened, Sheridan? What’s the locket got to do with this?”

Inside, the kitchen was already humming with activity. The kids had set the table, their faces smeared with flour. The scent of vanilla and melted butter wafted from the oven, a comforting reminder that some things never changed.