“Noah and Eli have special food here.”
Lucy looked suspicious.
“Baby milk?”
“Yes.”
“Enough for both?”
“More than enough.”
Only then did she begin eating.
Meanwhile, police officers arrived.
One was Deputy Thomas Reed, a father of three who had worked rural calls in the county for almost fourteen years.
He knelt beside Lucy.
“I need you to help me find your house.”
Lucy nodded.
“Can you show me?”
“I think.”
That answer frightened him.
The wheelbarrow became their first clue.
Mud coated the tire.
Dry grass tangled around the axle.
A faded hardware-store sticker remained visible beneath the rust.
Thomas recognized the store.
It served farms west of town.
“Did you walk here?”
Lucy nodded.
“With the babies?”
Another nod.
“How long?”
“Since the sun came up.”
It was almost four in the afternoon.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
The six-year-old had apparently pushed two newborns toward town for hours.
