“The police took Shiloh. Just ripped her away from me like savage beasts. Can you believe that? She’s breastfeeding.” She jiggled her legs while she spoke. “How’s she going to eat, Abbi? She doesn’t have teeth. She’s never eaten any food. What if they give her that poison?” Her words dripped with hysteria. “Will you help me? Please? There has to be a law against this. Mothers can’t be separated from their babies. Please help.”

“I don’t know anything about the law and babies,” I said. How could she have a baby with that monster? What did that make her? At least Shiloh was going to be with a family that would keep her away from them. Dean said there was a list a mile long of people who wanted to adopt babies.

Dad stiffened next to me, staring at her with anger radiating off him. She’d never felt permanent to me, and I’d been collecting memories of my own as we went along, because I wasn’t getting stuck without any this time. I’d kept pieces of her—the towel she’d used on her hair, a corner of the ratty shirt she’d slept in every night, and the toothbrush she’d used at the hospital. Were they all tainted with her lies now? Part of me wanted to gather them all together and burn them in a big pile in the front yard.

“Can you imagine?” She broke down in tears in the same way she had during her first few days with us. Wrecked. Pitiful. So much that you felt sorry for her and wanted to help her. Even now her tears pulled at me. “Poor Shiloh.”

Had she never thought about getting caught? Or was she that sure of their plan?

“You said once that you wanted us to have an honest relationship. Did you mean that?” I asked.

She nodded through her tears. “I meant everything, Abbi. Everything.” Snot dripped onto her upper lip, unapologetically.

“Where were we going that night?” I asked like I didn’t already know. I’d spent the last twenty-four hours being questioned by police and investigators and was well versed in their plan. Ray had wanted Mom to bring me to him as some bizarre loyalty test to show her repentance for leaving. I refused to listen to the FBI recordings of her phone conversations with him. I wanted her to say it to me. It didn’t matter how many times Dad walked me through it. None of it would feel real unless it came from her.

Her eyes darted around the room, and she lowered her voice. “We can talk about that later. It was all part of the Lord’s plan. His plans are not always easy. Sometimes they are very difficult.” She choked on a sob.