And even from inside my SUV, I could see they looked exactly like me.

Ashley laughed cruelly and tossed a twenty-dollar bill toward Emily.

“Buy yourself something to eat.”

Emily didn’t even look at the money.

She only looked at me.

There was no anger in her eyes.

No hatred.

Only sadness.

The kind of sadness that comes from being betrayed by someone you trusted completely.

Then she turned and walked away.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I kept seeing those babies.

Their faces.

Their hair.

The way Emily had protected them from the dust blowing across the road.

The next morning, I hired a private investigator named David Reynolds.

“Find everything,” I told him.

Three days later, he called.

His voice sounded different.

Serious.

Concerned.

“Michael,” he said quietly, “you need to sit down.”

My stomach tightened.

PART2