“I adopted a sweet 7-year-old orphan, but while washing her back on the first night, I discovered a scar shaped like a notorious cartel symbol. My blood ran cold. I locked the bathroom door and secretly dialed 911, stuttering, ‘Send help, she isn’t who you think-‘ Before I could finish, she effortlessly shattered the heavy lock, grabbed the phone, and said…”

if the system had a leak, or worse, if the system itself was part of the hunt.

“Sarah,” I stammered, my eyes locked on the paperwork. “The letters. On her back. The burn. They match a handwritten code on the corner of this prior placement summary.”

A dead, suffocating silence fell over the landline. When Sarah finally spoke, it sounded as though the continue reading …