“What the fuck?” she whispered as she looked through every file, thinking someone had made a mistake. She had no choice now but to start at the beginning because they had to be there.

That didn’t take long since she found them in the As. She would have driven a dagger through Abigail’s forehead had she been standing next to her when she saw the pictures of a smiling Sadie and Victoria. They’d grown up quite a bit since the last time she’d seen them. Had Abigail figured out their true name and registered them under Antakov? No—their information listed their name as Abbott. That was something she didn’t expect.

“Who is Finley Abbott?” she muttered around her flashlight. From what was listed, this Finley had as much right to remove the children and make decisions for their care as Abigail did. She made note of Abbott’s address, and what classrooms the kids were in.

She walked the halls and stopped at Sadie’s class first. Sadie’s name was on her desk along with some welcome to class sticky notes clearly done by the other students. When Nicola went through her work, she squeezed her hand into a tight fist when she saw how Sadie had signed her name. Eaton had been replaced by Abbott, and the sight of it intensified the pain in her head.

“What’s wrong?” Nina asked, having obviously noticed the change in her demeanor.

The anger coursing through her prevented her from saying a word as she went to Victoria’s kindergarten classroom. There, along with all the pictures the children had done of their families, was Victoria’s effort. The tall stick figure with dark hair and blue eyes had to be the Abbott who’d convinced her children to forget her and their family.

“Why did she write Abbott?” Nina asked as she stared at the same thing she was looking at.

“Are you familiar with the name Finley Abbott?”

“There was a cop in New York who was under Brock Howard. Abbott and some other woman were assigned to Howard when a transmission was found coming out of the precinct regarding the operation at the quarry.” Nina stared at the picture as if it held all the answers. It bothered Nicola enough that she tore it down and crumpled it into a small ball before dropping it on the ground. “What’s a NYPD investigator doing with your kids?”

“Get us back to the city tonight. I don’t care what you need to do, but we need to get there now.”