MY DAUGHTER FINALLY TOLD ME WHAT HER MOTHER HAD HIDDEN—AND EVERYTHING CHANGED

We didn't wait for an escort.

Within four minutes, we were back in Marcus's truck.

Coyle on the phone, dispatching an agent to Ruth's address.

"Richard, listen to me. A photograph is not a breach. It's a message, designed to cloud your judgment."

"You didn't see how they got into our house in Ridgemont. Locks don't stop these people."

Sarah dialed Ruth's number.

Again.

Voicemail every time.

"She's not answering. She always answers by the second ring. Always."

The three-hour drive stretched into a lifetime.

Somewhere past the Pennsylvania border, Coyle called back.

"Richard. Sarah. Stay calm. Our agent arrived eleven minutes ago. The front door was open. Ruth is alive. A blow to the head. Conscious. Stable." A pause. "The children aren't there."

Sarah made a sound I had never heard her make.

Doubled forward.

"There has to be a mistake."

"Ruth is being interviewed now. Two individuals posing as child protective services arrived ninety minutes ago. Fake credentials. Ruth grew suspicious. Tried to intervene. That's when she was struck. When she woke, the children were gone."

I stared out the window.

Unable to speak.

"This took planning," Marcus said. "Fake credentials don't happen overnight. Someone's been preparing this."

"Since the package on the porch," Sarah whispered. "Elias said it himself. It wasn't a warning. It was bait."

"Why take them alive?" I forced the question out.

"Because dead children can't be traded," Sarah said, her voice hardening. "They want the file. And now they have leverage."

Coyle's voice returned, steadier now.

"I'm activating every resource. AMBER Alert. Checkpoints. A recovery unit from Albany. If this is the Continuity, they'll make contact soon. Holding the children silently accomplishes nothing."

Sarah closed her eyes.

When she opened them, the terror had turned to something colder.