“The baby! He was suffocating!” Madison shouted back.

She looked toward her school… then toward Phoenix General Hospital, six blocks away.

She ran.

Her feet burned, her arms stung, and by the third block she was gasping so hard she tasted blood. But she didn’t stop.

A car slowed beside her.
A middle-aged man leaned out the window.
“Sweetheart! What’s wrong?!”

“To the hospital! He’s dying!”

He braked hard, threw the door open, and she climbed in, clutching the baby to her chest. Minutes later, they screeched up to the ER entrance.

“Help! Please!” she screamed. “He’s dying!”

A nurse sprang up.
“Bring him in! Camilla, now!”

The world blurred. A stretcher appeared. Firm, professional hands lifted the baby from her arms.

“Doctor! Doctor Reynolds!”

A tall man with graying hair ran toward them. When he saw the baby—his baby—he froze as if struck.

“No…” he whispered. “No… please…”

He staggered forward, eyes landing on the baby’s tiny blue bracelet.
“Ethan,” he choked out.
“My son.”

He collapsed to his knees.

The nurse stared.
“Doctor… you know him?”

“He’s my baby,” he managed. “He… he was kidnapped this morning.”

Madison felt the world tilt.
“Kidnapped? But he was alone in a Mercedes…”