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“You think she would sue you?”
“She should.”
I shook my head. “Laura has mentioned nothing about taking legal action. Like I said, she’s upset, but she loves you. We’ll find her little girl, I promise.”
“Thank you, James. We’ll come to the barbecue this weekend, and please let us know if we can help.”
Mrs. Young hugged me goodbye. It was the first time I’d seen Laura’s mother show deeper affection.
“Thank you.”
The Youngs left, and my phone dinged with a message from my lawyer. As predicted, the adoption agency had no further useful information. I drove back to my aunt and uncle’s, where my parents were having dinner.
“Uncle James!” Emma ran to my side with her two Rottweilers. “Where’s Kensi and Laila?”
“They’re with their mom today.”
She followed me inside, where I poured myself a glass of cranberry juice and sat by the fireplace on the patio.
“How did your meeting go?” my mother asked. She set a plate of food in front of me. “Dig in.”
“I didn’t get as much information as I’d hoped.”
“And you’re feeling all right? You look a little pale.”
“Just tired.”
“Eat up. If you don’t take care of yourself, who’s going to take care of your girls?” She winked.
“Teresa? I can’t find the apple pie,” Aunt Wilma called out, and my mother went back to the kitchen.
Emma plopped on the seat beside me, pointing to the box. “What’s that?”
“Laura’s baby stuff.”
“The baby she lost?”
“Yes. Some clothes and a photograph.”
“Can I see?”
“Go for it, kid.”
She opened the box and gently lifted the baby gown, the hospital bracelet with the name Jane Doe, and a photograph of a two-day-old baby.
“Uncle James?”
“Yes, Emma?”
“Why does the baby have Kensi’s bracelet?”
CHAPTER 13
LAURA
Irefreshed my laptop screen as the digital clock switched from 2:59 to 3:00 in the morning. I’d sent my DNA to a lab the morning after I left James’s house. The company would add the analyzed results to a match site where I’d created a profile. Eight hours passed, and there was no update.
I shut the screen and set the laptop aside. The sheets burned against my skin, so I pulled the covers off my body. It didn’t help. I turned on my stomach and pressed my cheek to the pillow. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my daughter’s face, but when I opened them again, she was gone. Was she safe? Did she have a warm bed to sleep in? Frustration swam through my veins so fast I had trouble slowing my heart rate. Sleeping pills didn’t help, and I felt like I was losing my mind. Thank God for Teresa, who wanted to babysit Foxy again. The family fall barbecue was tomorrow, and I planned to tell James the truth about Foxy before the end of the day. I didn’t want to do to him what had been done to me.
