My sister called me at midnight and whispered, “Turn off every light. Go to the attic. Don’t tell your husband.” I thought she was losing her mind — until I looked through the floorboards….

At 2:13 a.m., my security alarm screamed.

Every light in the house snapped on automatically.

I bolted upright in bed just as a voice shouted outside.

“Backyard movement!”

Men.

Plural.

I grabbed Noah from his room while he cried in confusion.

“Mama, what’s happening?”

“It’s okay,” I lied. “Just stay with me.”

Outside, footsteps pounded through wet grass.

Then came the sound that made my blood freeze.

The slow creak of the backyard swing moving.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Even though there was no wind.

An agent shouted, “STOP!”

A gunshot exploded.

Noah screamed against my shoulder.

Another shout.

Running footsteps.

Then silence.

Minutes later, Mara entered through the front door with her weapon still drawn.

Her face told me everything before she spoke.

“They got away.”

I felt my knees weaken.

Mara caught me before I hit the floor.

“They were sending a message,” she said quietly.

“What do they want from me?”

Her expression darkened.