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“You could be right,” Michael said. He looked at Emma. “Do you know why your mommy is nicknamed Magpie?”

She giggled softly. “She told me she used to talk a lot when she was little, so she wasn’t allowed to talk at all anymore. Also, in case you haven’t noticed, she’s a bit of a hoarder.”

A hoarder? Michael saw zero evidence of that, so he would just have to take Emma’s word for it. “That makes sense, especially considering the second text.Nothing. Her beak was taped shut.”

“Oh, he used to do that to her,” Emma said, brushing a strand of the doc’s red hair with a tiny plastic doll brush.

The room went completely silent at her statement, and every gaze shifted from Halle to Emma.

Michael leaned closer, “What do you mean, honey? Who used to do that to her?”

“Her stepfather. He used to tape her mouth shut so she couldn’t use her ability on him.”

He eased back, shocked to the core at both the news and the nonchalance in which it was delivered. But a five-year-old could hardly be expected to understand how horrible that situation must’ve been for Izzy. And that explained the small scars on Izzy’s face. Miniscule lines that ran from the corners of her mouth. How could he not have seen that?

Growing impatient, Carson took the phone from him and read the next text aloud. “What is fragile, not like a flower?”

All three women in the room answered at the same time. “A bomb.”

“He put a bomb somewhere?” Carson’s partner asked from the hallway.

“Call the office,” Carson said. “Fill them in.”

He nodded, pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, and walked into the kitchen.

“Okay, next riddle.” Carson tapped the screen. “There is a piggy in the south and a piggy in the west. Let’s get the bacon because Daddy needs to rest.”

“Is there a bank in Santa Fe named Southwest?” Halle asked.

Carson nodded. “The Southwest Bank and Trust.”

“They’re going to rob it.” When Carson gaped at her, she added, “I’m good with cryptic. Piggy bank? South and west? Bacon?”

“As in money,” Michael said.

She nodded. “It has to be a bank by that name.”

Without another word, almost every individual in the room scrambled for the door, bottlenecking before shaking loose and spilling into the narrow hall.

“I’m staying with Emma,” the doc said.

Michael stopped Eric with a hand on his shoulder. “Can you stay and watch Emma for me?”

“You got it.”

He patted Eric’s back in gratitude, then turned to Halle. “You are officially the smartest person in the room.”

She laughed. “Go get your girl.”

Michael started toward the stairs but turned back. “Give me one minute,” he said to the others, hurrying to Emma’s room. “Doc, can I have a few seconds with her?”

The doc stood. “Of course, but she’s pretty out of it. Poor kid.”

“She’s breathing, so it’s all good.”

The doc left, and he sat beside Emma, marveling at how adorable her curls were. The ridiculous length of her lashes. The pretty bow shape of her mouth. But he wasn’t here for Emma.

“Celie,” he said, talking softly but loud enough to summon the woman inside the girl.