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Nash found a small Mexican restaurant off the main roads and out of view. When Luc and Antoine walked in behind them, neither was surprised to see the other.

After taking their seats and ordering food, Jenna stared at the three men.

“What is going on?”

“Jenna, Nash told you earlier that we’ve been concerned about the ways in which your family died. We had trouble finding your parents’ death certificates or any sign that they had indeed died.”

“I told Nash that I was at their funerals. They died literally within days of one another.”

“Did you see their bodies?” asked Antoine. She looked at him and shook her head. “You didn’t because it was a closed casket. It was closed intentionally because of the brutality of their deaths.”

“Wh-what?” she whispered.

“Jenna, have you ever heard the name Genevieve St. Martine?”

“No. Was she someone in history? Someone famous?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, sort of,” said Luc. “Genevieve St. Martine was the infant daughter of Claudia and Jacques St. Martine. Jacques was a very well-known French businessman, often dealing in things that weren’t exactly legitimate.”

“I see,” she frowned.

“When Genevieve was just nine months old, she was kidnapped while in the park with her nanny outside of Paris. The nanny was murdered, and the child was taken, never to be seen or heard from again.”

“That’s terrible,” she frowned.

“It is terrible. The police in France and here in the U.S. all believed it was an act of vengeance from another family. The Ciprianis.”

“That name sounds familiar,” she said, looking at the men. Nash nodded at her.

“The Cipriani family is one of the most brutal mob families in Italy and have businesses on the East Coast. They’re known for their illegal activity of all kinds.

They had a vendetta against St. Martine because he turned over evidence to Interpol that cost them billions of dollars and the incarceration of two very important people in their operations. ”

“It all sounds very sordid,” she said. “But what does this have to do with me?”

“Jenna, when you were in our clinic, we did a number of tests on you. They were all routine bloodwork, x-rays, that sort of thing.”

“I remember,” she said softly.

“Our team realized today that you are Genevieve St. Martine. Your DNA and blood match identically. There’s no other option,” said Luc. She stared at them, then started laughing.

“You’re joking,” she smiled. When they didn’t smile back, she sobered. “Y-you’re joking. That’s not possible.”

“Jenna, we believe that the people you thought were your parents were, in fact, working for Cipriani. You were always going to be used as leverage between the families.”

“B-but why let me go to the convent?”

“It’s possible that the people acting as your parents didn’t want any harm to come to you and thought the convent would be safe for you. Your sisters were, in fact, blood-related, but there is no way that you were born of the same parents.”

“I don’t understand any of this. I’m not related to them. I didn’t have three sisters?”

“They were your sisters, in a manner of speaking. You were raised with them, but they weren’t your biological sisters.”

“What about my parents, the people who raised me? Did they really die?”

“The boys back home did some research once they figured out who you really are. A couple fitting the description of your parents were found on the edge of the mountains outside of Tucson. It looked like they were hiking toward Mexico.

“Their death was brutal, Jenna. Not something anyone would want to see, which is why the casket was closed. Their fingerprints matched those of two people who were believed to be employed by the Cipriani family. Victor and Angela Portello. Who else was at their funeral if your sisters had already died?”

“Me. A few people who said they were neighbors. I didn’t really remember them. There were two men who said they worked with my dad. That was about it.” She stared at their faces and realized what they were telling her. They were waiting to see if she showed up at the funeral.

“Did anyone speak to you?” asked Nash.

“The priest. He said he was sorry for my loss. The others just stood there. I walked around and asked who they were. I mean, I’d been gone for so long I had no idea who those people were.

But if I’m this lost baby, this kidnapped baby, why not take me, hurt me, bring me home, or whatever they were trying to do? ”

“We’re not sure, Jenna,” said Antoine. “They obviously didn’t want to harm you, or they would have. Let the team back home continue to dig into this, and we’ll find out what happened here.”

“What happened?” she said, staring at them.

“Are you kidding me right now? You just told me that I’m the long-lost kidnapped child of some French businessman who apparently was doing all kinds of illegal things.

Raised by two people hired by my kidnappers, guilted into a life of service at the convent, and now I’m potentially a target as well. I didn’t miss that innuendo, right?”

“No. You didn’t miss that innuendo,” said Nash.

“I want to go back to the house,” she said.

“Jenna, there were cameras at that house, and no doubt someone is there now waiting for us,” said Antoine.

“Why on earth would someone wait forty years for me to return to that house? You are not making any sense at all,” she said with frustration.

“That’s what we need to find out.”