“We just need you to sit in here. Someone’s already on their way over.”
“My parents were supposed to be on the way over! Where’s my mom?” I could feel the tears bubbling in my eyes. Why wouldn’t anyone tell me what was going on? Had Carsyn denied my story? Did the store say I was shoplifting after all? Was I going to get charged with a crime? And why was my dad in handcuffs?
“Just sit in here.” We were back in the waiting room.
“Please,” a few tears spilled out of my eyes and down my cheeks. “Just tell me what’s happening.”
He must have taken pity on me, because I saw something soften in his expression. “Your mom and dad are being held for questioning right now.”
“Questioning? But they didn’t have anything to do with the bracelet. I didn’t even call to tell them I was going shopping. I’m probably in trouble for that already. They really didn’t know about any of it!” I desperately tried to explain.
“It’s not about the bracelet.”
I frowned. “Then…what’s it about?”
Obviously he regretted getting into this conversation with me. He looked down at the toes of his boots before answering, and when he looked up he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You were flagged in the database as a missing person.”
“But I’m not missing. I’m right here.”
“A social worker is on her way. She’ll be here any minute to explain it to you.”
“But I don’t understand. What crime are my parents being questioned about?” I asked.
He cleared his throat before answering. “They’re being questioned about a kidnapping, Rain.”
It didn’t really sink in right away. The word kept bouncing around in my suddenly-empty head, completely devoid of all meaning. Kidnapping.
But why would the police want to question them about something like that?
I wouldn’t get an answer for thirty-five minutes, the amount of time it took for the social worker to arrive. I made about a dozen calls on my mobile phone to Aaron, my mom and dad and the house phone, but no one answered and I just listened to empty, hollow ringing as my tension mounted. Finally the social worker came bursting into the room, but I heard her coming well before the door flew open. She was wearing the clunky, square-heeled kind of shoes that made loud, clip-clopping sounds on the linoleum floor. There was a run on the left leg of her pantyhose, and I could see a bit of lace where her hem was slipping past her wrinkle-resistant polyester skirt. It was a nondescript brown color, like her hair, and a poor match for the blue blouse she wore under the matching jacket.
“Rebecca Keene, Child Protective Services,” she introduced herself immediately, thrusting a pale, cold hand out toward me. I shook it automatically. She pulled back quickly, flipping open a manila folder to glance at it before looking back up at me. “You must be Chloe.”
“Chloe? No. I’m Rain Ramey.”
“Ramey. Ramey,” she flipped open the folder again, turning pages. “Yes of course. Rain, right?”
“That’s me.” I nodded. Then, all the questions came exploding out of me. “What’s going on? Where are my parents? The policeman said something about kidnapping?”
She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. It was just one of many tendrils that had escaped the bun at the nape of her neck. Rebecca Keene looked tired and harried, and I’d never missed my mother more than I did in that moment. “That’s right, Rain. Your parents are still being questioned in connection with an infant girl who disappeared more than fourteen years ago.”
My head tilted to one side as I stared at her. “But it’s all just a misunderstanding. My parents haven’t kidnapped anybody.”
Rebecca Keene gazed at me before her eyes lowered to the folder in front of her. “Today, the child would be sixteen years old. At birth, she had blue eyes and blonde hair. Like all babies born in the Silverwood Hospital since 1985, her fingerprints were taken shortly after she was born. The fingerprints found a match for the first time tonight,” her dark green eyes found mind before she continued. “When your ten-print card was ran through the database.”
My ears were ringing again. I felt my fingertips go numb. My eyes were cloudy; it seemed as though I was looking at Rebecca Keene through fog. “I don’t understand.”
“Rain, you are a match for that missing child. Arthur and Rhianna Ramey are not your natural parents. They abducted you from your home when you were eighteen months old.”
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