"You've been staring at that flier since yesterday. What's up?" John glanced over his shoulder at me. I hadn't missed the way his right eyebrow quirked.

I caressed the edges of the flier, only then acknowledging its presence. Which was funny, considering I had been staring at the flier for a while now. Just like he pointed out. I must've zoned out once again.

"There was this woman in the store with me yesterday. But she was in a hurry and dropped this on her way out," was my short response.

"Oh?"—he snapped the raw spaghetti noodles in half and dipped them into the pot of boiling water—"why do you still have it then?"

"Well, I don't know. It seems important. There's a lot of hand-written data and information on the back. But there's no information about where she works, so I have no way of returning it to her," I said, sighing.

"Hmm, let me see." He took a step back from the stove and reached his hand forward. I handed him the flier and leaned back in the kitchen chair. "What is this, William's Real Estate Agency? Oh! That's the company working with Jeremiah Adams on the houses in the park, isn't it? Maybe she works here."

"No, no. I overheard her phone conversation in the store. It's definitely not this company. But she does seem to be trying to make some sort of deal with them. So, I don't know. There's definitely a connection."

"Maybe she works for a company in the area then." John shrugged.

I reached for the flier again and laid it flat on the table. "Yeah, you could be right. I just wish I knew what the company was."

"Hey, don't stress about it. She probably has that information backed up or saved somewhere if it's that important. And you want to know what else I think?" John grasped my hand, kissing across each knuckle. "I think you should put that away for now and rest until dinner is ready. I'm also right about that, aren't I?" Tease laced his tone.

A ghost of a smile haunted my face while I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, sir!" I mock-saluted.

"Watch it." He growled playfully. But I stuck my tongue out and giggled.

"Are you sure you have to go to work tonight?" I pouted and crossed my arms.

Because of this case, his hours had been shifting constantly. One minute, he was stuck at the station all day, and coming home late at night. The next minute, he was home all day, but went into work late at night until early morning—sometimes late afternoon as I was leaving for work.

He smacked my forehead with a kiss. "I do."

I groaned, dropping my pouting act. If it was going to happen, there was no stopping it. "Can you at least appeal to my boredom with what's been going on? I heard the first arrest was made in the case so far." I played with the ends of my curls, eyeing him innocently over my fingers.

He wasted no time in rolling his eyes at me. I observed his next few steps. He moved at a daunting pace until he reached the stove again, running a hand through his hair.

"You're right. We arrested Jeremiah Adams two days ago. But he was released yesterday. The Adams have got quite the lawyer backing their asses," John murmured.

"What? You're kidding!?" I cleared my throat when he shot me a confused look. "Um, I mean, why?"

"It's a little complicated to explain. Now that we've found another girl, we've been carefully taking a look into all the evidence we've gathered on file between 2016 and recently, again. None of Jeremiah's alibis from that year match up to any of the dates the girls went missing.

"And our forensics have been working their asses. But so far, we've got nothing solid. Most of the reports caught him with a woman. I bet he's screwing around. Think it could be an affair. Which doesn't make him a criminal, but it does make him something else." John rolled his eyes.

I wasn't surprised anymore. That man was sleazy.

"Oh"—I sat up straight, glossing over the details about Jeremiah—"another girl was found?"

"Yeah. Hikers stumbled upon her in a nearby area, not too far from where Mary Drake was found. They called it three days ago." John sighed under his breath. "So, things have been more than busy at the department. We've got our work cut out for us. On the bright side, their clothes didn't completely deteriorate with their bones. So, we can at least identify those."

"Ah, that's pretty sad. . ." I mumbled.

"Yeah, Rae Mitchell . . . definitely super sad," he whispered to himself.

"What did you say?" I'd heard him as clear as day. But I wanted him to repeat it. No, I needed him to repeat it before I said anything.

"Oh, don't mind me. I was just thinking about it. I don't know how Cory ever handled this case. Sometimes, it leaves you in a depressing state of mind."

"That's because he was always driven by determination. With justice on his mind. Just like you," I chimed in.

"You're right. As a detective, I feel like we're supposed to get used to stuff like this, but it always hits me. It feels even worse because they're children." His eyes fluttered shut and his jaw set in place, as the vein in the side of his head throbbed.

As if bad thoughts were invading his mind, he gritted his teeth and snapped himself out of it.

"Hey." I stood and made my way to him. "It's okay. I wouldn't expect you to be indifferent towards things like this."

"Is that so?" John hummed.

"Yes. You're still human. It's not every day you have to be out in the field solving these kinds of cases either. If you didn't feel anything"—I carefully snatched his hand, placing it on my stomach—"considering you're also going to become a father soon, I think I'd be a little worried," I joked.

He gently clenched his hand around my stomach. "Yeah, you're right. . . I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"For everything. I know I've probably been a pain in the ass lately. But I hope you understand why I get so worried now. I'm trying my best to keep you both out of harm's way."

John's grip on my stomach became firmer. I felt him shiver under my touch.

He continued, "I don't mean to be overbearing. It just scares me shitless. I can't imagine something bad happening to you two. Just thinking about it makes me sick."

"Stop. Don't say that. Weren't you just scolding me about thinking negative not too long ago?" I flicked his forehead and shook my head, rambling on, "you need to learn how to take your own advice. I don't know how Cory did it either. You said this was the biggest case of his career, right?"

John chuckled, a warm smile replacing his distress. "Yeah. You should've seen Cory's face when Chief put him on this case. He just knew he'd be able to crack it. He hadn't even met any of those children, yet he was determined.

"I think he was more determined than any of us had ever witnessed in the station. Staying up late nights. Waking up at dawn. All just to focus on solving this case. Sometimes he even slept at the station by accident."

What was this feeling in my chest? Hurt? Jealousy? I wasn't sure. Part of me wished I could've seen Cory that happy. Even a glimpse would have sufficed. It sounded like it was the happiest he'd ever been.

"You know, sometimes I forget you don't understand the concept of rest." John's voice reeled me out of my thoughts. I'd caught him shaking his head, just as he finished speaking.

"Hey! Isn't that one of the many reasons you married me?" I grinned and mocked his voice as I said, "I'm fierce, hardworking, determined, and—"

"And a woman who needs to rest." He gave me another kiss, this time on my lips, shutting me up. "Please?"

"Fine. I hate it when you get demanding." I let out a playful sigh.

"Oh, really? Because I think I remember you saying otherwise the other night when you were moan—"

"Hey, hey! I'm going. I'm going, okay?" I shushed his laughter, while exiting the kitchen, a blush exploiting my face. As soon as I was behind closed doors, I knelt on the floor, stretching my hands under the bed.

"Come on, come on. Where are you?" I rushed out. When I felt the papers, I had placed under there, I hurried to pull it out.

"Rae Mitchell, Rae Mitchell, Rae Mitchell," I repeated until her file was in front of me. "Found you!"

It was exactly like I thought.

"Ten-year-old Rae Mitchell, born August 15th. Last seen wearing a black overall dress, with a black bow, November 16th, 2016. . ." I paused.

It was all too obvious. Starting with her birthday and the birthday party, they were exactly two days apart. Then, the black bow I saw in my nightmare was sitting on top of her head. This was my birthday girl.

* * *

"Seriously!? You have got to be shitting me." I scoffed in disbelief at the large road block sign ahead. I checked the time on my phone. It was fifteen minutes to one. I was going to be fucking late. That was just great.

I would have been out of the house already, but Rosemary and I thought it'd be fun to oversleep. I hadn't heard my alarm ring and John was in the shower, after just getting home from work.

"Okay, this isn't so bad. I can fix this. Cheer up, Angie." I coaxed myself.

After reversing the steering wheel and making a U-turn, I found myself driving down the back roads. Thankfully, there was little to no traffic. I had driven for about ten more minutes when a traffic light came into view, where I was forced to slow on the brakes.

My eyes wandered over the beautiful houses that were lined beside each other down the strip. It wasn't every day I drove through the back roads of West Greenbush. My parents used to drive through here all the time to avoid traffic.

It was always on their way to work, to drop us off at school, and the list went on. Ever since John and I made the sudden move to Shifton, I'd forgotten how much we left behind. The only thing we hadn't left was our jobs.

"Oh wow, that house is beautiful. I wonder what John would say about investing in a house like that. What do you think, Rosemary? Do you think I could convince daddy to move us into a bigger house like that when you're born?" I cooed in awe, patting my stomach.

My mouth hung open at the two-story house sitting beside me. As my eyes shifted, I couldn't help but notice the Mercedes-Maybach Exelero parked in the driveway of said house. Damn, whoever was living there had some wealth to them. That was an expensive car.

"Well, hello there, who are you?" I scanned their license plate for the state. But the first thing that caught my eye were the numbers 1770 dented into the plate.

Guard the numbers 1770 to your heart and your mind.

I could hear Madam Cheryl's words in my head.

"So, she wasn't a sham after all. Go figure. What the hell?" I barely had time to think when the front door to the house was shoved open.

"Mr. Sheen! I would appreciate it if you kept your dog out of my backyard. I won't tell you again. Next time, I'll have ASPCA come pick him up for you if you can't control him! If I was anyone else, he'd probably be shot dead already for trespassing. I'm holding you accountable for your dog." Someone barked angrily.

The man mowing the front lawn of the next house over chucked back his own aggressive response. And they continued to bicker.

My eyes widened and I swerved until I was parked beside the curb. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was like fate. Her and I were destined to meet again. The woman whose flyer I picked up was arguing with her neighbor right in front of me.