But then, earlier she’d thought that the most difficult part of the day was making dinner, because she made dinner just for herself and Gabrielle. And before that, the most difficult part was the afternoon, when Nathan would usually run up and down the stairs. And before that, the most difficult part was in the mornings, when she woke up and he was still not there. And the night was the most difficult part because she couldn’t sleep, and when she did, she had nightmares.

Every minute of the day was the most difficult part of the day.

How’s Gabrielle doing? Isaac wrote.

She’s keeping herself busy. And she’s doing wonders with the ransom fund

It’s been rising really fast. You’ll have the ransom in a few days. And then you’ll get your boy back

She wiped a tear from her cheek. The tears came throughout the day, like a sneeze or an itch. Abihail said that even when we have the ransom, we might not get him back

Abihail is wrong, I’m sure of it.

She wished she had his optimism. I hope so. I’m at the police station now. For the lineup I told you about

Oh good. Do you feel like you can identify him?

Eden exhaled. Was she? I’m not sure

Don’t let them rush you. Take your time and get it right.

Okay

After a few seconds he wrote, Any news about their investigation?

Not yet. They won’t really tell me anything

You need to insist that they do

He was right. She would. I talked to Abihail today about the day we left the Family. She says I remembered it wrong. I remember we weren’t in the hall with everyone. But she said we were. Do you remember that day?

She waited, watching the typing indicator as it blinked on and off a few times. Approaching footsteps made her put the phone away.

A pudgy officer entered the room. “Ms. Fletcher? We’re ready.”

She followed him, hardly breathing, down a neon-lit hallway into a dark room. One side of the room was just a large pane of glass looking out onto a gray chamber, six men standing against the wall. Eden paused in the doorway, petrified.

“They can’t see you,” the officer told her. “It’s one-way glass.”

She stepped into the room and peered through the one-way mirror. Six men, two of them bearded, the rest clean shaven. One was fatter than the others. All had black hair. And one . . .

And one was him. Number four. She could imagine him in the street, his eyes scanning around him, a predator in search of prey.

“Take your time,” the officer said. “There’s no rush.”

“It’s number four,” she blurted.

“Are you sure?”

Something in his tone made her fearful. What if she got it wrong? They would have to let this Karl Adkins go. And if he had taken Nathan, if he knew anything . . .

She stared at each of them, their faces blending into a mix of noses and eyes and twisted lips.

“I’m sure,” she finally said, half expecting him to sigh or shake his head, disappointed with her. But he didn’t. He just nodded and marked something on his clipboard.

“Did I get it right?”

“I can’t tell you that. You would need to talk to the detective.”

“Where’s the detective?” She’d expected Abihail . . . Abby, or that Detective Carver, to take her to the lineup. Not this unfamiliar man.

The officer hesitated. “He’s been called to check something out,” he finally said.

“Something about Nathan?”

“Ma’am, it would really be best if you talk to him about it.”

Isaac had told her she needed to insist. But now her resolve melted; her shoulders slumped. “Was there anything else?”

“No, that’s all. I’ll walk you out.”

As they stepped out into the hallway, someone said, “Eden?”

She frowned at the man, but it took her a few seconds to recognize him here, so out of place. It was her neighbor Frank.

“Oh hey,” she said weakly.

“They brought me here for a lineup,” he explained. “To see if I can recognize the man.”

“Recognize him? You saw him around the neighborhood?”

“They didn’t tell you?” Frank frowned. “I saw . . . well, I thought I saw Nathan get into his car.”

“You saw it?” she whispered, shocked. “But why didn’t you—”

“I wasn’t sure,” Frank quickly added. “Just when the police came over to ask me about it. I feel terrible, of course. If there’s anything I can do to help . . .”

Anything he could do. Eden wanted to claw his eyes out. He’d seen her son being taken, and said nothing. Didn’t call her. Or the police. Went on with his day like nothing had happened.

“How’s Gabrielle doing?” Frank asked softly.

“She’s doing fine,” Eden said automatically.

“Tell her I said that if there is anything I could do, you can call me. I’d be glad to help. That’s why I’m here. I want to help. I want—”

She couldn’t listen to him anymore. She strode away, her head pounding, fists clenched tight. The officer led her outside, and she walked in a daze back to her car, slumped into the driver’s seat, lips trembling.

Sobbing, she took out her phone, desperate to tell Isaac about her encounter. She saw he’d sent her a message while she was looking at the lineup. It took her a moment to recall what they’d been talking about.