Heavy fists pounded on the solid oak front doors. "Stamford Police! Open up!"
I kept Mia tucked securely in my left arm, her small face buried in my neck, while I used my right hand to press the smart-home panel on the wall. The heavy deadbolts clicked open electronically.
Three police officers burst into the foyer, rain dripping from their tactical vests, their hands resting cautiously on their duty belts. The lead officer, a tall, imposing man with a stern jawline, scanned the room. His eyes landed on the crying newborn, the hysterical wife, and finally, on me holding a shivering five-year-old girl wrapped in a heavy winter coat.
"David Mercer?" the officer asked. "We received an automated distress signal with an attached video file from this address. Suspected child endangerment."
"That's correct, Officer," I said, my voice perfectly steady. "I am the homeowner. I came home from a business trip early and found my daughter, Mia, locked outside on the patio in forty-degree weather. That woman," I pointed at Claire, "my soon-to-be ex-wife, and that man, Julian, locked her out there because she was 'breathing too loud'."