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He told me finding Mae Baxter had taken time.

He told me old records were difficult to trace.

He told me not to give up.

While photographs of my daughter sat inside his office.

“How long?” I whisper.

“We found photographs of Sage beginning when she was twelve.”

Six years.

Mae was still alive.

Sage was safe.

And Daniel knew exactly where she was.

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

Vega is silent for a moment.

“We found your payment records.”

Shame heats my face.

Sean looks at me.

I look away.

“How much?” he asks.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters if he stole from you.”

“I paid him what he asked.”

“For how long?”

“Sean.”

“How long, Hayley?”

I stare at the monitors.

“Five years.”

His face hardens.

I know that expression isn’t for me.

“What did he tell you he was doing?” Vega asks.

“Searching birth records. Midwife licenses. School records. Anything that might identify Mae or Sage.”

“He already had both names.”