CHAPTER 6
The taxi pulled up near the gates of Bellevue High School just as the afternoon rain began to thin into a soft, Pacific Northwest drizzle.
Yellow school buses and luxury SUVs lined the drop-off loop as students in matching athletic jackets poured out of the gymnasium doors.
I stepped out of the cab, standing near a row of tall pine trees, scanning the crowd of teenagers with desperate, wide eyes.
And then I saw her.
Sophie Whitaker walked out of the tennis facility, carrying a black racquet bag over her shoulder, laughing with two friends.
Her dark hair bounced in soft waves around her shoulders, and her dark brown eyes caught the afternoon light in a way that took my breath away.
She was the living, breathing image of the baby girl I had wept over for seventeen long years.
A tall, impeccably dressed woman in a navy trench coat stepped out of a white Porsche Cayenne, waving warmly at Sophie as she approached the vehicle.
It was Eleanor Whitaker—a prominent Seattle philanthropist and the woman who had paid three million dollars to steal my child.
"Sophie, honey! Hurry up, we have dinner reservations at the country club with your father!" Eleanor called out, holding open the passenger door.
May you like
My legs moved on their own as I stepped out from behind the trees, my voice cracking through the damp air.
"Sophie!" I called out, taking a frantic step forward. "Sophie, please wait!"
