Page 32 of Montana Justice

But even as I said it, pieces clicked into place. Her panic attack at the barn. The name Sadie. The way she’d been so protective of Caleb, so terrified of leaving him with anyone.

And something I’d never told her; she probably had no idea. Twins ran in my family. My father had a twin sister.

“I have—I have a picture,” she gasped between hyperventilating breaths. Her whole body rocked back and forth, hands still twisted in her hair. “Just one. Just one picture of her.”

She fumbled for her phone with shaking hands, nearly dropping it twice. When she finally got it unlocked, she held it out to me, her arm trembling so badly I had to kneel and take it from her.

The photo showed a baby girl. Dark hair like Caleb’s, delicate features, clutching a stuffed elephant. My daughter. Another child I’d never known existed.

“What happened?” My voice came out strangled.

She was pulling at her hair again, hard enough that strands came loose in her fingers. “They were two months old, and he found me. Beat me unconscious. When I woke up, she was gone. He left me Caleb but said if I ever wanted to see my daughter again, I had to do exactly what he said.”

The last words came out as sobs. She wrapped her arms around her middle like she was trying to keep herself from flying apart.

I still couldn’t even wrap my head around all this.

“Every week,” she gasped, the words barely intelligible.

“Every week, I gave Ray information. If it was good enough intel, he’d send a photo on an app that erased the pictures.

Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to see my baby before it vanished.

Thirty seconds to memorize how much she’d grown without me. ”

I stood frozen, her phone still in my hand, watching her fall apart completely.

“You should have told me.” The words came out broken. “The moment you showed up with Caleb, you should have told me everything.”

“He said he’d kill her!” She was on her feet now, pacing frantically, pulling at her hair again. “He said if I breathed one word to you, if I tried to be clever, she’d disappear forever. And I believed him. I still believe him.”

“Piper—”

“Three months!” She screamed the words. “Three months since I’ve held her. Since I’ve smelled her hair or felt her weight in my arms. Do you know what that’s like? Do you?”

Her breathing was coming in short, sharp gasps, chest heaving like she couldn’t get enough air.

“All those nights you held me while I cried,” she said, voice rising with hysteria. “I wasn’t crying about being tired or overwhelmed. I was crying because half of me was missing. Because somewhere, my baby girl was growing up without me, and I couldn’t even say her name out loud!”

She pressed her palms against her temples, squeezing like she could force the pain out.

“Every time Caleb smiled, I wondered if she was smiling. Every time he reached a milestone, I knew I’d missed hers.

And the worst part? The worst part is that I was grateful.

Grateful that at least I got to keep one of them. ”

Her legs gave out again. She slid down the wall, knees pulled to her chest, rocking back and forth. The keening sound coming from her throat was barely human.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. She’d been wrong, she’d made horrible decisions, but she’d done it because she’d felt she’d had no other choice.

This woman had been alone her whole life. Had been abused by the people who should have taken care of her. Had been threatened in the worst possible way by the man who should’ve been helping her the most.

I slid down beside her and stopped her as she reached to pull her hair again. “Piper. We’re going to get her back.”

There was so much more to this than just getting Sadie back, but that was the most important thing. To Piper and to me.

I had a daughter.

“I’ve lost everything.” She clutched the phone in her hand, staring at Sadie’s picture. “I’ve lost you, I’ll lose Caleb, and I’ll never get her back. He’ll disappear with her, and I’ll never?—”

She broke off, pressing her fist to her mouth as another sob tore through her. Her whole body shook with the force of it, like she was coming apart at the seams.

I wanted to comfort her. The instinct was still there, despite everything. Confusion and pain and heartbreak swirled inside me. But how could I hold the woman who’d betrayed me? How could I not hold the mother of my children—both of them—as she shattered in front of me?

I rubbed my hand down the back of her head, getting her to calm. I said the same thing over and over: “We’re going to get her back.”

“How?” Piper finally asked, voice small and broken.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I promise you, we’re going to get Sadie back.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself, still rocking slightly. We sat there in the wreckage of our relationship, both crying for different reasons. For the daughter we’d lost. For the family that never had a chance. For the love that had been condemned from the start.

Sadie. Her name was Sadie and she was five months old and she was out there somewhere with a monster.

And I had no idea what to do about any of it.