Daniel’s eyes moved toward the evidence envelope.

“Your daughters are being taken to the hospital.”

A shaky breath came through the line.

“Olivia?”

“Yes.”

“Is she conscious?”

“She was.”

Sarah made a sound like someone trying not to cry.

“Then there isn’t much time.”

Daniel stood straighter.

“Time for what?”

“You found the syringe.”

It wasn’t a question.

Daniel looked toward the envelope.

“Yes.”

“Then he knows.”

“Knows what?”

Sarah didn’t answer.

“Sarah?”

Her voice became quieter.

“Listen carefully. Michael isn’t the only person who knows what happened.”

Daniel felt a chill run through him.

“Who else?”

“My father.”

“Your father?”

“He works for the department.”

Daniel stopped.

His eyes moved slowly toward the framed photographs on the wall.

Past police chiefs.

Retired commanders.

Awards.

Names.

Then he remembered the call log.

The original missing-child report had been filed by Michael.

But the responding officer had not been assigned by dispatch.

The assignment had come directly from a supervisor.

Daniel opened the incident record.

There it was.

Authorization code:

C-17.

Supervisor:

Captain Harold Voss.

Daniel’s stomach tightened.

Captain Voss had been the person who taught him, fifteen years earlier, never to ignore a frightened child.

He had also been the officer who signed Daniel’s promotion papers.

“Sarah,” Daniel said carefully, “are you telling me someone inside this station is helping Michael?”

“No.”

“Then what are you telling me?”

“I’m telling you someone inside this department helped him before.”

Daniel looked at the clock.

4:29 p.m.

Only twelve minutes had passed since the girls walked through the door.

It felt like twelve hours.

“Where are you?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“You called me.”

“Because I needed to know whether the girls reached someone they could trust.”

“You could have called the hospital.”

“I don’t know who I can trust.”

Daniel closed his eyes.

“Sarah, your daughters said you were dead.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“Because Michael needed them to believe it.”

Daniel’s voice dropped.

“Why would he want his own children to think their mother was dead?”

Sarah was silent for several seconds.

Then she said:

“Because they saw me.”

“Saw you doing what?”

“No.”

Her voice broke.

“They saw what he did to me.”

Daniel’s hand tightened around the phone.

“Sarah, what did Michael do?”

The line went silent.

Then came a faint sound.

A door closing.

Sarah whispered:

“He’s here.”

Daniel stood instantly.

“Where?”

“He found me.”

“Sarah, call emergency services.”

“I did.”

“You called us?”

“No.”

Daniel heard footsteps on her end.

Slow.

Heavy.

Getting closer.

“Sarah?”

Her breathing became rapid.

“Officer Reed, if you want to save my daughters, don’t arrest Michael.”

Daniel frowned.

“What?”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because he’ll talk.”

“That’s what we want.”

“No.”

Sarah’s voice became almost inaudible.

“He’ll tell you where the others are.”

The line went dead.

Daniel stared at the receiver.

Others.

Not one.

Others.

He immediately called the hospital.

A nurse answered.

“This is Officer Reed. I’m calling about Olivia Carter.”

“She’s in treatment.”

“Is she conscious?”

“Not currently.”

“Any idea what she swallowed?”

The nurse hesitated.

“We’re waiting on toxicology.”

“Is her sister with her?”

“Yes.”

“Put me through to the physician.”

The nurse transferred the call.

Daniel waited.

Then a man’s voice came through.

“Officer?”

“Yes. How is Olivia?”

“Stable for the moment.”

Daniel exhaled.

“But there is something you need to know.”

“What?”

“The substance isn’t behaving like a normal medication.”

Daniel’s expression hardened.

“What does that mean?”

“We found traces of something in her stomach.”

“What?”

“I can’t confirm it yet.”

“Doctor, please.”

A pause.

“It’s a sedative.”

Daniel’s jaw tightened.

“How strong?”

“Strong enough that the amount could have been dangerous for a child.”

Daniel looked toward Emma.

She was standing alone near the window.

“Is Olivia going to survive?”

“We’re doing everything we can.”

Daniel closed his eyes.

Then he heard another voice.

Small.

Shaking.

“Officer Reed?”

He turned.

Emma was holding something.

A folded piece of paper.

“Where did you get that?”

“Olivia gave it to me.”

“When?”

“Before we came here.”

Daniel approached slowly.

“What is it?”

Emma handed it to him.

The paper had been folded four times.

Daniel opened it.

Inside was a child’s drawing.

A house.

Two girls.

A woman.

And a man standing behind them.

The man had been drawn with no eyes.

Underneath the picture, in uneven handwriting, were six words:

DADDY SAYS WE ARE NOT FIRST.

Daniel stared at the sentence.

“What does this mean?”

Emma shook her head.

“He told us not to ask.”

“Who did?”

“Daddy.”

“What did he say?”

Emma looked toward the dead television in the corner.

“He said there were other girls before us.”

Daniel’s blood ran cold.

“Other girls?”

Emma nodded.

“He said they didn’t listen.”

“What happened to them?”

Emma looked down.

“They went to sleep.”

Daniel crouched beside her.

“And never woke up?”

Emma shook her head.

“No.”

She swallowed.

“They woke up somewhere else.”

Daniel’s phone vibrated.

A message.

Unknown number.

He opened it.

There was a photograph.

A hospital room.

Olivia lying unconscious beneath a white blanket.

Emma standing beside her.

Daniel looked up sharply.

Someone had photographed them after the ambulance arrived.

Then another message appeared.

YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE DOOR UNLOCKED.

Daniel’s heart pounded.

He looked toward the station entrance.

The deadbolt was still engaged.

Then the lights flickered again.

Emma grabbed his hand.

“Officer Reed?”

“Yes?”

She pointed behind him.

At the old evidence room.

The door was slowly opening.

Daniel reached for his weapon.

But before he could move, a woman stepped out of the darkness.

She was soaked from the rain.

Her hair was plastered against her face.

She looked exhausted.

Terrified.

And very familiar.

Daniel had seen her face before.

In the photograph.

Sarah Carter.

She raised both hands.

“Please,” she whispered.

Daniel stared at her.

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears.

“I know.”

Then she looked at Emma.

And the little girl ran toward her.

“Mommy.”

Sarah dropped to her knees.

Emma threw her arms around her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Daniel watched them embrace.

Then Sarah pulled away and held Emma’s face between her hands.

“Where is Olivia?”

“The hospital.”

Sarah closed her eyes.

“Thank God.”

Daniel stepped closer.

“Sarah, we need answers.”

“I know.”

“Who are the other girls?”

Sarah looked at him.

Her expression changed.

“Officer Reed…”

“What?”

“The other girls aren’t Michael’s daughters.”

Daniel waited.

Sarah whispered:

“They’re witnesses.”

Then the station door unlocked by itself.

A single click.

Daniel turned.

The deadbolt slid back.

From somewhere outside came the sound of footsteps.

Sarah grabbed Emma’s hand.

And this time, Daniel heard a familiar voice coming through the door.

Captain Voss.

“Daniel.”

A pause.

“Step away from the woman.”

Daniel didn’t move.

Sarah’s face went white.

Then she whispered:

“That’s him.”

Daniel looked at her.

“Who?”

Sarah stared at the door.

“The man Michael was afraid of.”

The handle began to turn.

For three seconds, the station was completely dark.

Then the emergency lights flickered on.

Red.

Dim.

Unsteady.

Daniel Reed stood motionless behind the counter, listening to the rain strike the windows.

Michael Carter was gone from the glass door.

Daniel rushed outside.

The SUV was already pulling away.

“Carter!”

The vehicle accelerated through the rain and disappeared around the corner.

Daniel ran back inside and grabbed the radio.

“Dispatch, this is Reed. I need an immediate vehicle alert for a black SUV, Carter, Michael, heading east from the station. Suspect may be attempting to flee.”

Static answered him.

Then nothing.

Daniel looked at the radio.

“Dispatch?”

Still nothing.

He tried again.

Nothing.

The entire station had gone strangely quiet.

The computer screens were black.

The desk phone was dead.

Even the box fan had stopped.

Daniel walked to the electrical panel.

The main breaker had been switched off.

Not tripped.

Switched off.

Someone had deliberately cut the power.

He turned it back on.

The fluorescent lights returned one row at a time.

The computers restarted.

The phones rang simultaneously.

Daniel nearly jumped.

He picked up the desk phone.

“Reed.”

A woman’s voice answered.

“Officer Reed?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Sarah Carter.”

Daniel couldn’t speak.

The voice continued.

“Where are my daughters?”

Daniel gripped the receiver.

“Sarah, where are you?”

Silence.

Then she whispered:

“That’s not important.”

“It is to me.”

“No,” she said. “What matters is that you don’t let Michael find them.”

Daniel’s eyes moved toward the evidence envelope.

“Your daughters are being taken to the hospital.”

A shaky breath came through the line.

“Olivia?”

“Yes.”

“Is she conscious?”

“She was.”

Sarah made a sound like someone trying not to cry.

“Then there isn’t much time.”

Daniel stood straighter.

“Time for what?”

“You found the syringe.”

It wasn’t a question.

Daniel looked toward the envelope.

“Yes.”

“Then he knows.”

“Knows what?”

Sarah didn’t answer.

“Sarah?”

Her voice became quieter.

“Listen carefully. Michael isn’t the only person who knows what happened.”

Daniel felt a chill run through him.

“Who else?”

“My father.”

“Your father?”

“He works for the department.”

Daniel stopped.

His eyes moved slowly toward the framed photographs on the wall.

Past police chiefs.

Retired commanders.

Awards.

Names.

Then he remembered the call log.

The original missing-child report had been filed by Michael.

But the responding officer had not been assigned by dispatch.

The assignment had come directly from a supervisor.

Daniel opened the incident record.

There it was.

Authorization code:

C-17.

Supervisor:

Captain Harold Voss.

Daniel’s stomach tightened.

Captain Voss had been the person who taught him, fifteen years earlier, never to ignore a frightened child.

He had also been the officer who signed Daniel’s promotion papers.

“Sarah,” Daniel said carefully, “are you telling me someone inside this station is helping Michael?”

“No.”

“Then what are you telling me?”

“I’m telling you someone inside this department helped him before.”

Daniel looked at the clock.

4:29 p.m.

Only twelve minutes had passed since the girls walked through the door.

It felt like twelve hours.

“Where are you?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“You called me.”

“Because I needed to know whether the girls reached someone they could trust.”

“You could have called the hospital.”

“I don’t know who I can trust.”

Daniel closed his eyes.

“Sarah, your daughters said you were dead.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“Because Michael needed them to believe it.”

Daniel’s voice dropped.

“Why would he want his own children to think their mother was dead?”

Sarah was silent for several seconds.

Then she said:

“Because they saw me.”

“Saw you doing what?”

“No.”

Her voice broke.

“They saw what he did to me.”

Daniel’s hand tightened around the phone.

“Sarah, what did Michael do?”

The line went silent.

Then came a faint sound.

A door closing.

Sarah whispered:

“He’s here.”

Daniel stood instantly.

“Where?”

“He found me.”

“Sarah, call emergency services.”

“I did.”

“You called us?”

“No.”

Daniel heard footsteps on her end.

Slow.

Heavy.

Getting closer.

“Sarah?”

Her breathing became rapid.

“Officer Reed, if you want to save my daughters, don’t arrest Michael.”

Daniel frowned.

“What?”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because he’ll talk.”

“That’s what we want.”

“No.”

Sarah’s voice became almost inaudible.

“He’ll tell you where the others are.”

The line went dead.

Daniel stared at the receiver.

Others.

Not one.

Others.

He immediately called the hospital.

A nurse answered.

“This is Officer Reed. I’m calling about Olivia Carter.”

“She’s in treatment.”

“Is she conscious?”

“Not currently.”

“Any idea what she swallowed?”

The nurse hesitated.

“We’re waiting on toxicology.”

“Is her sister with her?”

“Yes.”

“Put me through to the physician.”

The nurse transferred the call.

Daniel waited.

Then a man’s voice came through.

“Officer?”

“Yes. How is Olivia?”

“Stable for the moment.”

Daniel exhaled.

“But there is something you need to know.”

“What?”

“The substance isn’t behaving like a normal medication.”

Daniel’s expression hardened.

“What does that mean?”

“We found traces of something in her stomach.”

“What?”

“I can’t confirm it yet.”

“Doctor, please.”

A pause.

“It’s a sedative.”

Daniel’s jaw tightened.

“How strong?”

“Strong enough that the amount could have been dangerous for a child.”

Daniel looked toward Emma.

She was standing alone near the window.

“Is Olivia going to survive?”

“We’re doing everything we can.”

Daniel closed his eyes.

Then he heard another voice.

Small.

Shaking.

“Officer Reed?”

He turned.

Emma was holding something.

A folded piece of paper.

“Where did you get that?”

“Olivia gave it to me.”

“When?”

“Before we came here.”

Daniel approached slowly.

“What is it?”

Emma handed it to him.

The paper had been folded four times.

Daniel opened it.

Inside was a child’s drawing.

A house.

Two girls.

A woman.

And a man standing behind them.

The man had been drawn with no eyes.

Underneath the picture, in uneven handwriting, were six words:

DADDY SAYS WE ARE NOT FIRST.

Daniel stared at the sentence.

“What does this mean?”

Emma shook her head.

“He told us not to ask.”

“Who did?”

“Daddy.”

“What did he say?”

Emma looked toward the dead television in the corner.

“He said there were other girls before us.”

Daniel’s blood ran cold.

“Other girls?”

Emma nodded.

“He said they didn’t listen.”

“What happened to them?”

Emma looked down.

“They went to sleep.”

Daniel crouched beside her.

“And never woke up?”

Emma shook her head.

“No.”

She swallowed.

“They woke up somewhere else.”

Daniel’s phone vibrated.

A message.

Unknown number.

He opened it.

There was a photograph.

A hospital room.

Olivia lying unconscious beneath a white blanket.

Emma standing beside her.

Daniel looked up sharply.

Someone had photographed them after the ambulance arrived.

Then another message appeared.

YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE DOOR UNLOCKED.

Daniel’s heart pounded.

He looked toward the station entrance.

The deadbolt was still engaged.

Then the lights flickered again.

Emma grabbed his hand.

“Officer Reed?”

“Yes?”

She pointed behind him.

At the old evidence room.

The door was slowly opening.

Daniel reached for his weapon.

But before he could move, a woman stepped out of the darkness.

She was soaked from the rain.

Her hair was plastered against her face.

She looked exhausted.

Terrified.

And very familiar.

Daniel had seen her face before.

In the photograph.

Sarah Carter.

She raised both hands.

“Please,” she whispered.

Daniel stared at her.

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears.

“I know.”

Then she looked at Emma.

And the little girl ran toward her.

“Mommy.”

Sarah dropped to her knees.

Emma threw her arms around her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Daniel watched them embrace.

Then Sarah pulled away and held Emma’s face between her hands.

“Where is Olivia?”

“The hospital.”