“We were just hired to do a medical transport,” the second man stammered, raising his hands. “A private agency called us. They paid cash.”

“Who hired you?” I asked, my voice cracking as I stepped around my father.

I saw Owen inside the plastic bassinet behind the counter.

He was sleeping soundly, a blue knit cap pulled down near his tiny eyebrows.

“A woman named Patricia Parker,” the tall EMT muttered, his confidence vanishing. “She said the mother was unfit and the child needed to be moved to a private clinic immediately.”

“The mother is standing right here,” my father said, pointing at me.

The tall EMT slowly set the paperwork down on the counter.

“We didn’t know,” he said. “We were just doing our job.”

Two local police officers entered the nursery behind us, their utility belts clinking with every step.

“Take these two into custody for questioning,” Agent Vance told the officers. “Find out who authorized their badges and who gave them access to this wing.”

The officers nodded and led the two men out into the hallway.