The police came for Nathaniel at dawn.I woke to the sound of pounding on the front door and the deep, unfamiliar voices of men who were not here to be polite. By the time I pulled on a robe and made it downstairs, two officers were already standing in the foyer, and Nathaniel was halfway down the stairs with his shirt unbuttoned and his face still heavy with sleep.Elora stood at the top of the staircase, wrapped in a silk robe, watching everything with wide, innocent eyes."Mr. Vance," one of the officers said, holding out a folded document, "you've been served with an emergency restraining order filed by your wife, Elena Vance."My blood stopped moving.Nathaniel's head turned toward me so fast I heard his neck crack. His eyes were ice, sharp and cold, and the look he gave me was not confusion or hurt; it was pure, burning hatred. "You did this?""I didn't," I said, and my voice came out smaller than I wanted. "I never filed anything."But the officer was already handing him the pa
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