"Ryan made arrangements with a private medical transport company. He told them your mother was confused and needed supervised care."
My hands went numb.
The forged statement.
Mom's recent hospitalization.
Ryan's questions about my mental health.
He hadn't simply been preparing to take my children.
He'd also been trying to remove the one person who refused to support his story.
"Teresa," I whispered, "where was he taking them?"
She hesitated.
"There's an address on the paperwork."
My pulse quickened.
"Read it."
She did.
A private residential property outside Denver.
The same city Megan claimed she'd been visiting for years.
I closed my eyes.
Then Teresa whispered, "Claire, I found something else."
"What?"
"A folder in Ryan's car."
My hands shook.
"What kind of folder?"
"Birth records. Financial documents. Old photographs."
My stomach tightened.
"Of whom?"
She took a shaky breath.
"Of your children."
I couldn't speak.
She continued.
"And one of the documents is a DNA test."
