“You have your son back,” Brooke said. “We don’t. Don’t you get it? We are no closer to finding Rhys than we were before all this.”

“I don’t think there is much he can tell you anyway,” Lionel said.

Chick was having none of that. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I am with him constantly. We are doing all we can so that Patrick opens up. But right now he remembers very little. It’s as though he remembers being a child here, and that’s it. Even if he could tell you about the actual kidnapping, I don’t think that would help very much. All we know for now is that your son was being held by the same man who held Patrick.”

Myron said, “Patrick confirmed that?”

“Not in so many words. The key is to get him acclimated. Patrick is spending a great deal of time with his sister, Francesca. I think he finds Francesca to be a comfort. We want to let him start hanging out with people his own age, start to socialize a bit, but we need to take baby steps.”

Chick: “What the hell is going on here?”

Hunter said, “Calm down, Chick.”

“Like hell, I’ll calm down. Your kid knows what happened to mine. He has to talk to us.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Lionel said.

“Are you for real? This is a kidnapping investigation. I’m calling the cops.”

“That won’t do any good,” Lionel said.

“Why the hell not?”

“The police have been here, of course. But as Patrick’s doctor, I’ve advised the family against allowing him to be questioned at this time. My job is to worry about my patient and my patient only, but in truth, I think it’s best for all. Again, I want to assure you that we are doing all we can to put Patrick in a space where he feels comfortable opening up.”

“And when might that be?” Chick asked.

“Chick,” Nancy said, “we are all trying our best here.”

“So what do you expect us to do?” Brooke asked, the edge in her voice now. “Should we, what, go home and wait for you to call us?”

“I know how difficult this must be,” Nancy said.

“Yeah, Nancy, I’d think you would.”

“But I have to worry about my son too.”

“Your son”—Brooke’s hands formed two fists—“is home. Do you not get that? He’s home. You can hold him. You can feed him and make sure he’s warm at night. My son . . .”

And for the first time, Myron saw the chink in Brooke’s armor. So did Chick.

“The hell with this,” Chick said. He stormed out of the room and toward the front of the house.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lionel asked.

Chick didn’t answer. He headed for the stairs. “Patrick?”

“Wait,” Hunter said, “you can’t just go up there.”

“Stop,” Lionel said. “You’ll traumatize him.”

Chick didn’t even bother glancing behind him. He started up the stairs. Hunter hurried after him. Not sure exactly what to do, Myron moved his body a little, just enough to throw Hunter off the straight path.