Nathan drove back to the house fast. He didn't care about the speed limit or the office. His mind was only on one thing: the boy's birthmark and the driver's story about the hospital. If the boy was a Keith, and if Fiona had been stolen, then he had been living a nightmare while his family was out there somewhere.
When he reached the house, he parked the car and took a deep breath. He had stopped at a store on the way and bought a big bag of toys and a tub of expensive chocolate ice cream. He wanted to look like a man who was just happy, not a man who was uncovering a giant conspiracy.
He pushed the front door open. The house was quiet, smelling like the ginger bread Viktoria had made earlier. He saw Mateo sitting on the rug in the living room, surrounded by some old papers he had found in a drawer. The boy was trying to fold them into airplanes, his little brow furrowed in concentration.
