The search parties, with their sniffer dogs at the leash, were preparing to set off; the plan was for them to move forward in an arc, as if it were a hunting expedition. Teresa was becoming increasingly concerned about the weapons they were equipped with. Of course they wouldn’t fire any shots until they were sure the child was safe—but what would happen after that?

Teresa saw Gardini and Ambrosini approaching. They were escorting a woman, the mother of the abducted child. She was holding a piece of cloth against her chest and made straight for Teresa as soon as she saw her. It was an encounter that could no longer be avoided.

Gloria Sanfilk’s eyes, swollen from crying and full of misery, looked straight into Teresa’s. Teresa was surprised by the strength she could discern beneath the surface of the woman’s despair.

“He’s alive,” Teresa heard her say. It wasn’t a question, but a warning to Teresa that she mustn’t dare—not even for a moment—think otherwise and give up.

“I’m sure of it,” the woman said.

Teresa looked for her husband but couldn’t see him.

“He isn’t here,” said Gloria, reading Teresa’s thoughts. “I won’t take him back, I won’t let him near us again, but you have to bring me my child back.”

She handed the cloth she’d been carrying to Teresa. It was a baby’s romper. Gloria placed it inside Teresa’s hand, squeezed it between hers, and raised it to her own face to breathe in the scent of her baby, inviting Teresa to do the same. It wasn’t for the dogs, she had brought it for Teresa; she wanted to make sure that the woman who held her son’s fate in her hands would feel the child’s smell on her as if it were her own baby.

Take my place, she was saying. Take my place and bring him back to me.

Teresa nodded. No words were necessary.

Ambrosini walked up to them and put his arm around Gloria’s shoulders, gently leading her away.

Marini came over.

“It’s impossible to predict how the killer might react,” he said, eyeing the forest.

“You should call him by his name,” Teresa murmured—more to herself than to her young colleague. “No one else has ever done that for him. He’s never even done it himself.”

Marini’s expression shifted.

“I think I understand what you mean, now,” he said. “I can’t help but see him as a victim either.”

He paused then, before uttering the question no one else had had the courage to ask her: “Do you think he’s going to hurt the child?”

Teresa had spent all night thinking about that. She hoped she’d found the right answer and not just the one that made her feel better.