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The doctor came in behind her. "Please, keep your voice down, Mrs. Johnson," he said. "This is a hospital."
"Can't you do anything? Can't you wake him up so he can tell me what he has done with the children? Where they are? My lawyer told me that they can come live with me now. I want the children. They're mine now."
"Mrs. Johnson, Madeleine," I said, my voice calm and measured. "I understand that you're upset, but we're doing everything we can to find the children."
She snorted derisively. "You're useless. You all are," she said. "All I care about is my grandchildren. And if you can't find them, then I will."
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, but it doesn't work like that. We have protocols in place to ensure the safety of the children, and we can't just hand them…."
But I didn't get to say anything else. She wasn't listening to me any longer. She just turned around on her heel and walked out of the hospital room.
I shook my head and turned back to John.
"You're not getting away with this," I whispered to him. "I will find those kids. And I'll make sure you pay for all the lives you've ruined. And if you have hurt those children in any way, I swear I will come after you. And you will wish you had died when I shot you. Mark my words."
Chapter42
Kyla stood in her kitchen, carefully sautéing onions for her homemade pasta sauce. The savory aroma of garlic and Italian spices filled the air. It had been a long day at work, but cooking always helped her unwind. Plus, she had found that it made her forget the sadness of losing her sister for at least a little while.
She was in the middle of stirring the sauce when she heard the sound of a car pulling into her driveway. Kyla glanced out the window and saw her mom's car. She hadn't expected her mom to visit tonight.
As she watched, her mom jumped out of the car and ran toward the front door. Kyla could see the worry etched on her face. Something was wrong.
Before Kyla could even open the door, her mom flung the door open and burst into the house. Kyla rushed to her.
"What's wrong?" she cried, her voice catching in her throat as she took in her mother's strained face. "What's going on?"
Kyla's mom walked past her daughter into the kitchen, her hand waving in front of her face as she wrinkled her nose. "What is that smell?" she asked, her voice sounding strained and tired.
Kyla's heart sank. "I was just making some pasta sauce.”
"Oh, well, in that case, it smells wonderful,” she said sarcastically.
"What's going on, Mom?" Kyla asked.
"My lawyer says I can have the kids now that John is going to jail."
"That's good. That's what you wanted, right?" Kyla said.
"Yes," she said with a small snort.
"There's a but coming, isn't there?"
"Yes, dang it. We still don't know where those kids are—what John did with them. Does he have any nearby relatives that he could have taken them to?"
"Not that I know of," she said.
Kyla's mom's voice trailed off as she stared into space, deep in thought. Kyla could see the worry lines on her forehead, and she knew that her mother was trying to come up with a plan.
"We have to find them, Mom," Kyla said, placing a comforting hand on her mother's shoulder.
"I know, honey," her mother said, her voice thick with emotion. "But we don't know where to start."
Kyla shrugged. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to help. "Maybe they're with one of his friends? Or co-workers."
"I called the school, and Thomas hasn't been in since Rachel disappeared; the daycare said the same about the twins. No one has seen them since John picked them up after school on the day that Rachel went missing. It worries me."
Kyla's mind was racing, trying to think of any other leads they could follow. "What about social media? Maybe he posted something about where he was taking them?"
