“She thinks you might need an evaluation, Bec. And I hate to say it, but given all that you’ve been through, I think it might not be a bad idea.”

“An evaluation for what?” He won’t dare say it. He won’t question my mental stability. He doesn’t have the guts.

“I just think it would be wise to talk to someone. That’s all I’m saying.”

“You promised you’d help me.”

Silence descends between us. He begins to speak, but then his phone buzzes. “Donovan.”

I close my eyes. All this time and I’m not any closer to my son. What am I even doing? I think about Beth, the onesie, the vigil, the bells. Where are the real clues? The real leads?

“We’ll be right there.” He disconnects. “That was Prentice. They pulled some strings and got a working scanner. Not sure if it’s as comprehensive as CertaScan, but it’s something. Should be the same database.”

“You mean…” My breath leaves my body. “We’re going to actually get some answers?”

“Here’s hoping. I’ll get the baby.”

The baby. I locate the carrier, car seat, and the diaper bag, and drop them in the front hall. I haven’t even thought about the baby’s real name, what it will be like to give him an identity.

Jake descends moments later. I gather the baby in my arms and realize I missed him the short time I was away. I close my eyes and breathe in this innocent child’s now familiar scent.

“Will we be back in time for the vigil?”

Jake checks the time. “Gonna be tight.”

On the way, Jake fills me in on the details about this particular technology as if reading from a brochure. “Pat did some digging. CertaScan is compliant with the latest NCMEC’s Instant Security Guidelines and even mitigates hospital risk by preventing baby switches with the strictest infant safety guidelines available. Ironically, it’s literally built to prevent things like this from happening.”

“Only if your baby is switched in the hospital,” I conclude.

I know he senses my despondency, because he sounds upbeat and positive—a tactic he used to employ for his most unhinged suspects. He forgets that I know him. The calmer he gets, the worse it really is. He continues to spout off facts.

Now that he’s talking about it, I remember one of the nurses going over the same information after Jackson was born. But I was in such a blissed-out state, I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t think my baby could ever get taken. Even with my vision impairment. Even though my husband was dead. When Jackson was placed in my arms, I experienced such an overwhelming protectiveness, it was … instinctive. Certain. He belonged to me.