“Like I said, I lost track of the guy, but I just followed their voices,” Wendy explained. She sounded confident. At least, she thought she did. She was getting better at this lying thing.

“And you didn’t think to call anyone for help?”

“There’s no reception all the way out here,” Wendy told him, which was true.

Detective James hummed, his eyes roving over his notes again. “And you just found them in the clearing?”

“They were lost, obviously.”

“And the kidnapper ran off?”

Wendy shrugged. “It’s dark in the middle of the woods at night. I couldn’t keep track of him.” She’d heard Benjamin, Ashley, Joel, and Matthew give a similar story. Alex had only given nods and shakes of his head. They couldn’t see their kidnapper properly. Joel said they’d been forced to wear blindfolds, to which the others quickly agreed. It was a flawed explanation, but the Astoria police officers seemed too relieved that the children had all been found safe and sound to start poking holes in their stories yet.

Except for Detective James.

He clicked his pen. “How did you get so banged up?”

“Running through the woods,” Wendy told him, wincing as Dallas moved to a cut on her temple. “I fell a few times. It was dark, and I was scared.”

Detective James observed her. Wendy sat there, staring back, afraid to move or blink under his watchful gaze.

“Wendy!” Her father’s voice boomed in the distance, echoing off the trees. She started so hard, she nearly fell off the back of the ambulance. “Where’s my daughter?”

Wendy jumped down. “Dad?” she called, trying to look between the people standing around, squinting in the bright headlights of the cars.

Mr. Darling came barreling into view, pushing people out of his way. “Wendy!” Mr. Darling took her by the shoulders, practically lifting her off the ground. Dallas quickly moved out of the way. “Are you all right?” he demanded, his wide eyes showing the whites as he looked her over. His hands clasped the sides of her head, her arms, her hands, taking inventory. “Are you hurt? What happened?” He stood over her protectively and everyone backed up to give them space.

“Dad, it’s okay, I’m fine,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze.

In her father’s wake, Wendy saw Donald Davies jog up, looking pale and frazzled. His eyes darted around to all the cops and detectives.

Instinctively, Wendy shrank closer to her father.

Detective Rowan’s attention swept to Wendy. She looked at Wendy, then over to Mr. Davies before her gaze settled back on Wendy. Almost imperceptibly, Detective Rowan shifted closer. Her hand moved to rest casually on her duty belt.

“Where’s Matthew and Joel?” Mr. Davies asked, sweat glistening on his forehead.

“They’re with your wife en route to the hospital,” Detective James told him.