Mogan sent someone out to grab a kid’s meal—extra ice in the soda, just as he’d asked.
Ruby tore into the meal with the kind of hunger only a child can muster.
Ten minutes later, the burger and fries were gone without a trace, but she still looked like she could eat more.
Mogan cleared his throat. “Anything else you want?”
Ruby licked her lips. “Apple turnovers.”
“You like apple turnovers?”
Ruby tilted her head. “Do you like them too, Uncle?”
“A friend of mine does.”
Ruby nodded. “My mom loves apple turnovers, so I do too.”
At the mention of Amelia, Mogan’s friendly expression faltered. “So you picked it up from her, huh?”
Ruby shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with liking what you like. You don’t have to copy someone else.”
“Some people pretend to like things for their own reasons, even if they don’t.”
The idea seemed to go over Ruby’s head. She frowned, thinking hard. “Uncle, do you know someone like that?”
Mogan looked at her bright, clear eyes and couldn’t bring himself to say anything harsh.
He reached out and ruffled her hair. “If you want apple turnovers, I’ll take you to get some.”
…
Daniel had never seen Amelia like this—panicked and desperate, barely managing to hold herself together.
He’d sent every man he had to scour the city for any trace of Ruby. Finally, they tracked a stolen car to the edge of a wooded hill outside town.
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