“You have no authority here. These children are state property until we can locate their legal guardian.”

Owen squeezed his worn teddy bear tighter, burying his face into Lily’s shoulder.

Lily just stared at us, her large, pale blue eyes unblinking and watery.

“Their father was Arthur Vale,” Ryker said, his voice steady.

Hannah paused, her hand hovering over her manila folder.

“Arthur Vale?” she repeated.

“The philanthropist,” Ryker said. “I knew him well. We served on the children’s hospital board together.”

He took a slow step toward the children, holding his hands out where they could see them.

“His wife, Marissa, has clearly abandoned them here,” Ryker continued, gesturing to the phone in my hand.

“We have photographic proof that she was in this terminal less than an hour ago, leaving them behind.”

“That is a matter for the police to investigate,” Hannah said, though her tone softened slightly.

“In the meantime, these children must come with us to a temporary shelter.”

“No,” Ryker said firmly.

The word hung in the sterile, air-conditioned air of the terminal.

One of the police officers shifted his weight, his leather holster creaking.