Chapter 1
“Where did you send the children?”
Serena’s fingers closed around her bracelet.
Not her engagement ring.
The bracelet.
I noticed because fear creates habits, and Serena only touched that bracelet when she needed time to construct an answer.
Martha sat beside me with both hands wrapped around the handle of her bread basket.
Seventy-five years old.
Worn cuffs.
Back still straight.
The woman had fed me when there had been thirty-two children and enough meat for twelve.
She had never come to me asking for anything.
Until tonight.
“Serena.”
My voice remained low.
She finally answered.
“They were transferred.”
“Where?”
“Temporary housing.”
“Where?”
Her eyes moved toward the guests.
Wrong direction.
I stood.
The ballroom quieted further.
This gala had been advertised as a rescue evening for St. Catherine’s Children’s Home.
My childhood home.
Three hundred donors had eaten lobster beneath chandeliers because Serena told them the building needed repairs, new kitchens, winter heating, and another year of operating funds.
Martha had just told me the children had not eaten today.
Serena had just told me the home was closed.
Those two facts did not belong in the same room.
Rose, the waitress who had brought Martha to me, stepped closer.
“Mr. Mercer.”
Serena snapped:
“Go back to work.”
Rose did not move.
Interesting.
“What?”
Rose swallowed.
“I drove Mrs. Collins here.”
Martha looked at her.
Then at me.
Rose continued.
“The children were put on two buses yesterday morning.”
My jaw tightened.
“How many?”
“Twenty-three.”
Martha whispered:
“Twenty-four.”
I looked at her.
“One is missing.”
Serena went pale.
Not confused.
Pale.
“Who?”
Martha’s voice broke.
“Eli Dawson. Nine years old.”
I turned toward Serena.
She shook her head.
“That is not what happened.”
“What happened?”
No answer.
Rose quietly placed something beside my plate.
A brass key.
Old.
Stamped with the number 17.
I recognized it immediately.
Dormitory locker key.
Mine.
From thirty years ago.
Martha whispered:
“Eli found it behind the old pantry wall.”
I stared at the key.
Then at Serena.
The children had not merely been removed from my childhood home.
May you like
Someone had emptied the building after a child discovered something hidden there.
And one child never reached the buses.
