In answer, the ME held out his gloved hand, revealing a slender fragment of white bone, approximately two inches long and smeared with dirt and bits of leaves. “Rib bone segment,” he said. “Full length would be consistent with a six-year-old.”

D.D. swallowed, forced herself to briskly nod her head. Bone was smaller than she would’ve imagined. Impossibly delicate.

“Found a clothing tag, size 6T,” Ben continued. “Fabric remnants are mostly pink. Also consistent with a female child.”

D.D. nodded again, still eyeing the rib bone.

Ben moved it to one side of his palm, revealing a smaller, corn-sized kernel. “Tooth. Also consistent with a prepubescent girl. Except … no root.” The ME sounded puzzled. “Generally when you recover a tooth from remains, the root is still attached. Unless, it was already loose.” The ME seemed to be talking more to himself than to D.D. and Bobby. “Which I suppose would be right for a first-grader. A loose tooth, coupled with the force of the blast … Yes, I could see that.”

“So the tooth most likely came from Sophie Leoni?” D.D. pressed.

“Tooth most likely came from a prepubescent girl,” Ben corrected. “Best I can say at this time. I need to get the remains back to my lab. Dental X-ray would be most helpful, though we have yet to recover a skull or jawbone. Bit of work still to be done.”

In other words, D.D. thought, Tessa Leoni had rigged an explosive powerful enough to blow a tooth right out of her daughter’s skull.

A flake of snow drifted down, followed by another, then another.

They all peered up at the sky, where the looming gray snow clouds had finally arrived.

“Tarp,” Ben said immediately, hurrying toward his assistant. “Protect the remains, now, now, now.”

Ben rushed away. D.D. retreated from the clearing, ducking behind a particularly dense bush, where she leaned over and promptly dry-heaved.

What had Tessa said? The love D.D. currently felt for her unborn child was nothing compared to the love she’d feel a year from now, or a year after that or a year after that. Six years of that love. Six years …

How could a woman … How could a mother …

How did you tuck in your child one moment, then search out the perfect place to bury her the next? How did you hug your six-year-old good night, then rig her body with explosives?

I love my daughter, Tessa said. I love my daughter.

What a fucking bitch.

D.D. dry-heaved again. Bobby was beside her. She felt him draw her hair back from her cheeks. He handed her a bottle of water. She used it to rinse her mouth, then turned her flushed face to the sky, trying to feel the snow upon her cheeks.