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grade. His teachers say he’s unusually curious and acts older than other kids his age and that sometimes he—”
    Faith lost it then. Head bent, she couldn’t stop the tears from coming.
    Mom stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. A half a minute passed before Faith managed to gain control. She stood tall and said, “Lara and Hudson are out there somewhere. Please. If you recognize these men or know anything about why or where they might have taken my children, please call the Placer County Sheriff’s Department.” She looked into the camera once more and said in a clear voice, “Lara. Hudson. Mom is going to find you both and bring you home. I won’t let anyone or anything stop me. Stay strong.”
    Mary looked at the cameraman. “That’s a wrap.” She handed Faith a card with her name and number. “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

    Sitting in her mother’s Kia Spectra headed for the sheriff’s department, Faith glanced at her mom and noticed that the lines in her face appeared deeper, her hair grayer. She’d aged five years. It dawned on her in that moment that Mom, the woman who had driven her to school each day, wiped her tears, and braided her hair, was suffering, too. Faith would have preferred going to the police station alone. She didn’t have the energy to worry about anyone else, but still, she had to say something. “Thanks for coming with me.”
    “Of course,” Mom said. “Anything you need. Dad and I are here for you.”
    “How’s Dad doing? Shouldn’t you be with him?”
    “He’s strong as an ox—he’ll be fine. He wanted me to be with you today.”
    Faith nodded, wishing Mom would drive a little faster. Something closer to the speed limit would be nice. She scratched her arm, the side of her head, then drummed the tips of her fingers against the car door as she looked out at a blur of trees and road signs. The fury she felt within would not subside, contrasting greatly with the love she felt for her mother. She closed her eyes until the quiet settled over them like dust motes, which couldn’t be easy for Mom since she and Jana were talkers—the type of people who liked to fill every nook and cranny with words. Minutes felt like hours until they finally merged off the freeway.
    They walked through one of two glass doors leading into the building. To the left was what looked like the dispatcher room with a large sliding-glass window. Up a short flight of stairs and to the right was a desk with a sign-in sheet. A frazzled-looking woman held the phone to her ear and took notes. Another woman in uniform handled five tasks at once. One hand flipped through a file; the other jotted a number on a pad of paper. She used her foot to shut the file cabinet. The phone rang. She picked it up and put the caller on hold, leaving a flashing red button in its wake.
    Faith cleared her throat.
    “What can I help you with?” the woman asked.
    “I’m Faith McMann. We’re here to see Detective Yuhasz.”
    Recognition lit up her face. “Detectives Yuhasz and O’Sullivan are expecting you. Come with me.”
    They were led past rows of cubicles to a desk at the far back corner of the building. Chaos abounded. Reports were being taken, phones ringing, everyone talking at once. According to the nameplate on the desk, the detective’s name was Ryan O’Sullivan. He stood and extended a hand to Mom as he told her how nice it was to see her again. O’Sullivan was tall and lanky with dark-framed eyeglasses and thin, straight hair. He turned his attention to Faith. “It’s good to see you up and moving around. I’m sorry for your loss, and I want to assure you that we’re doing everything in our power to find your children.”
    “Thank you.”
    He nodded. “Detective Yuhasz will be with us shortly, and then we’ll move into his office. Elaine Burnett, with the FBI, is on her way.”
    Faith hadn’t realized she would be talking to the FBI at the same time, but she