Only my name. Nora Blake. The handwriting looked strangely familiar. Not Felix’s. Not Ingrid’s. Not anyone from his family. I carried the envelope upstairs to my apartment without opening it. …

As though she had rehearsed this phone call a hundred times and still believed I might hang up. “I’ll help you,” I finally said. A quiet sob escaped through the …

I looked down at my phone. The call had lasted only twenty-three seconds. No caller ID. No number. Nothing. Only silence. Clara leaned closer. “What did he say?” I swallowed. …

Not aggressively. Professionally. Like men who had rehearsed this moment. I slowly folded the birth record and slipped it back into the envelope. “I’m sorry,” I said calmly. “I don’t …

Dana slowly lowered my phone onto the hood of an investigator’s vehicle. “Trace that number.” An agent immediately hurried away. “It was prepaid,” another investigator muttered before he had even …

Now we knew there had been two. Dana slowly placed the forensic report onto the conference table. “I’ve already asked the laboratory to repeat the testing.” Peter looked exhausted. “They …

She couldn’t have been older than six. She never looked toward the camera. Instead… She stared at the floor. Like a child who had already learned not to ask questions. …