Page 56

Sheena

I told the dispatcher everything I knew, rambling for ten minutes straight, with every single detail burned into the back of my mind from the past twenty-four hours.

I didn ’ t know if I ’ d done the right thing anymore. Maybe there was no way to know until this nightmare ended, one way or another.

At that moment, my phone beeped in my ear, letting me know I had an incoming call. A quick glance showed an unknown number.

“ I need to take this call,” I gasped, sitting upright. “ I think—I think the kidnappers are trying to call me.”

I didn ’ t wait to hear what the dispatcher said next.

What if it was the kidnappers calling me to say that they were releasing the children right now? Or, alternately, calling to tell me they knew I ’ d brought in the police?

Dread sent droplets of sweat trickling among the tears.

I clenched my jaw and accepted the call.

A female voice came on the line right away. “ Ms. Halverson? ”

At first, I imagined that stringy-haired, teary-eyed woman in the mug shot. Jessa Landon.

But no, the voice coming through the phone wasn ’ t Jessa.

“ Sheena, this is Rashida from Security at Cherished Hearts. I … I ’ m here with your daughter and—”

If I hadn ’ t already pulled the car to a stop, I might have crashed right then and there. The words swam in circles in my mind, refusing to make sense. Those words couldn ’ t be right. Dad was at Cherished Hearts. Not my children.

“ My daughter? What?” I choked out, my body flooding with a dizzying cocktail of disbelief, relief, confusion, and horror.

“ She says she was on that bus of missing kids. We just called the police—”

“ Put her on the phone.”

“We ’ re trying to figure out what ’ s going on—”

“ Put her on the phone now!” I demanded in a voice that barely sounded like my own.

There was a brief silence. And then, impossibly, miraculously, a voice came on the line. Sage.

“ Mom,” she cried, her voice wobbly and thick with tears.

“ Oh my god, Sage. Are you okay? Where ’ s Bonnie? ” I couldn ’ t make sense of anything that was happening, but as long as the answer to those questions was yes, it was enough for this moment.

“ I ’ m okay. I got away, Mom,” she whimpered. “ I ’ m with Grandpa.”

For just a second all the horror and fear I’d been carrying lifted.

My hands automatically shifted the car into DRIVE, my foot hit the gas, and once again I was speeding in the direction of the blue dot I ’ d seen on the app: Sugarloaf Lane, which dead-ended on the outskirts of town. Barely a mile from Cherished Hearts, which was intentionally isolated from the hubbub of the city in case residents managed to slip past security and unwittingly wander off in a daze of confusion.

I still didn ’ t understand why my children were there. All that mattered was that they were alive.

Then it hit me: Sage hadn ’ t answered my question. And the security guard hadn ’ t said anything about Bonnie, either.

My stomach churned and I fought to keep my eyes focused on the road in front of me.

“ Sage, where ’ s Bonnie? ” I demanded as the world swam by in shadows punctuated by the glow of orange streetlights beyond the windshield.

“ Mom, I tried to take care of her. I tried so hard —” Then she was crying so violently she couldn ’ t even speak.

I floored the accelerator, listening to the sound of her sobs until I skidded into a parking lot lit up by blue-and-red lights from police vehicles for the second time in two days.

“ I ’ m here, Sage, I ’ m here!” I called out through my own choked sobs, lifting my hands in the air as I got out of the Subaru and saw the police rushing toward me through the facility ’ s open gate. I ignored them and looked around wildly, desperate for any sign of Sage or Bonnie, still clinging to hope that maybe I ’ d gotten it wrong, that Bonnie and the other children were nearby.

“ I ’ m their mother,” I screamed at the officer who held me back, as the tears and snot poured into my mouth, stumbling toward them down the walkway doorway where I ’ d said goodbye to Dad, just twenty-four hours earlier.

The nearest officer said something into his radio and softened his grip on my arm. Neither tried to stop me as I broke away.

The main door flung open, and there was a nurse—and Dad. And Sage, covered in dirt and blood from head to toe.

A rush of love and disbelief slammed against my heart so hard, I couldn ’ t breathe.

All I could do was fall to my knees and pull her against my chest.