Inside, there was nothing but a few empty plastic sleeves.

“He took the documents,” I said, a wave of panic washing over me. “He took my papers. He took the birth certificate.”

“We can get certified copies, Emma,” Thomas said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t let him panic you. That’s what he wants.”

“Why would he take Ethan’s birth certificate?” I asked, looking up at him. “He didn’t even want to hold him. He left us.”

“Because he wants control,” Thomas said. “He knows those papers are important to you.”

The second officer stepped toward the master bathroom, his flashlight beam cutting through the dim light.

“Look at this,” the officer said, pointing his light toward the built-in laundry hamper.

The wicker hamper had been pulled out from the tiled wall.

Inside, tucked beneath a pile of damp, mildewed towels, was a dark blue duffel bag.

Thomas walked over and looked down at it.

“Don’t touch it, sir,” Officer Miller warned. “Let us handle it.”

The second officer used a gloved hand to unzip the duffel bag.