The boy looked to be about twelve years old. He moved closer to the camera—close enough that we could see that his hair was sandy blond. The picture quality wasn’t good enough to see the green eyes, but I didn’t need to know the color. The facial features were all the same. I would guess he was fifteen or twenty years younger, but there was no doubt in my mind.

It was Luther. My Butcher.

“We will explain everything to you in due time,” Lizzy said.

But Luther was having none of it. “I want to know now.”

The other children moved forward. One looked younger than Luther by maybe five years. The little boy was scared and confused. Luther threw his arm around him protectively.

“It’s okay,” Lizzy said in a gentle voice. “No one can ever hurt you again.”

Another child, the one on the far right, started to cry. Lizzy moved toward him, her arms spread. He ran into her arms. She stroked his hair. The fourth child did the same. Lizzy took him in her grasp too.

“What the . . . ?” Ema asked.

“It’s a rescue,” Spoon said.

“Shh.”

I stared at the screen. Still comforting the two children, Lizzy looked toward Luther and the other boy. Luther shook his head. His grip on the other boy tightened.

“It’s okay,” she said again.

A tear ran down Luther’s cheek.

“You’re safe here. No one will harm either of you.”

From behind the camera, I heard Dylan say, “Uh-oh, I think we have company.”

Lizzy turned toward him. I could see something like fear on her face. “Get them to the safe room. Hurry.”

Then she turned back and said one word that made my whole world crumble anew:

“Brad?”

And then the voice, at once so familiar and yet so different: “I’m right here.”

My teenage father stepped forward.

Ema said, “Oh my God. Is that . . . ?”

Tears were running freely down my face. I nodded.

“Get them fed and situated,” Lizzy said to the teenager who would one day become my father.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lizzy, her face set, started back toward the camera. She walked past it and disappeared. For another second or two, I could see them all—the two children she had been comforting, Luther with his arm around the other scared boy, and my father. They all stood there, completely still, and then, with a snap, the screen went black.

CHAPTER 28

For a few moments, none of us moved. We just sat and stared at the TV screen.

“I have more information to use now,” Spoon said. “Luther disappeared with three other boys approximately, what, twenty years ago. There has to be something about it on the web.”

I nodded numbly. I did everything numbly. I could barely talk or think since we had watched the tape.

“Mickey?”

“Yeah, Spoon.”

“We will find out what happened to your father, okay? I promise.”