When Luca looked confused, Penny went on. “We figure it’s one of the volunteers, right? Who do you think would be most likely to have helped her out?”

Luca ran a hand over his face, then looked at Penny and smiled a little bit. “You’re going to think I’m paranoid, but one of the little old ladies there. . . .”

I sucked in a breath, but Penny didn’t seem to notice as the kettle came to the boil and Anika poured water into two mugs before her.

“I think her name was Dorothy or Dorothea? Something like that. She’s a Portsea local, part of some Grandmothers for Refugee Children grassroots organization, and honestly—I’d start with her.”

“Really?” Penny said, and Luca nodded.

“Oh yeah, her name will be with the Red Cross—she volunteered nearly every day, and I imagine she grew very close to most everyone. . . .”

Penny stayed and drank her tea, then thanked Luca for the tip-off and headed out. I tried smiling at her as she waved goodbye, but my guts felt like they were about to heave out.

“How could you do that to Dorothea?” I said, turning on Luca.

He put his hands in the air. “Trust me, I know! But we also know she has nothing to hide—which is exactly what Penny will find, and then she’ll be right back at the start again with no leads.”

“Smart,” Sam said.

“Thank you, Samuel. I am a police officer, I know how we think.”

As soon as we heard Penny’s car pull out of our driveway, my bedroom door swung open. Pop, Nora, and Mr. Khouri emerged, looking a little more frazzled than before.

“You get all that?” Luca asked, and it was Pop and Mr. Khouri who nodded, after which Luca added, “So I guess we’re doing this.”

“Thank you.” Nora’s voice came out strong and steady, and she touched her belly as she looked to Luca, and then Anika. “Thank you.”

“What is the plan?” Anika asked, “I mean—if we manage to not get caught, what’s the plan for Nora having the baby, and after . . . ?”

Mr. Khouri spoke up. “Call an ambulance when the time comes, but someone must stay with her at all times—in case the officials—”

“—make me sign away,” Nora interrupted, and Mr. Khouri nodded.

“You know they will. They did it to Merjeme and her family. That poor girl.” Mr. Khouri shook his head. “I know someone at the papers. I’ll call them and make sure they come—if we make a big song and dance about a mother and her baby being turned away and made to go back. . . .”

“You’re hoping to turn the tide of public opinion?” Luca said.

“It worked before—didn’t it? To bring them here in the first place?” Mr. Khouri replied.

“You’re basing this rescue on a lot of long shots and slim chances.”