I reached down and picked up the crumpled paper from the tile floor.

I smoothed it out against my knee.

It was a printed airline itinerary for a one-way ticket to Zurich, Switzerland.

The departure time was ten minutes ago.

The passenger name printed on the paper was Eleanor Vance.

There were no other names on the itinerary.

No tickets for a Lily or an Owen.

I handed the paper to Ryker.

He read the name, and I saw the muscles in his jaw tighten until they looked like stone.

“Eleanor Vance,” Ryker murmured.

I knew that name from the financial columns.

She was the cold-hearted widow who had recently inherited the Vance shipping fortune.

These were her stepchildren.

And she had just left them behind like unwanted baggage.

“Marco,” Ryker said, rising to his full, imposing height.

“Sir,” Marco said, instantly stepping closer.

“Find out which gate is boarding for Zurich,” Ryker ordered.

Marco’s fingers flew across his phone.

“Swiss Air, Flight 842,” Marco reported seconds later.

“It finished boarding at Gate C18.”

“The plane is already pushing back from the jet bridge.”

Ryker’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure ice.

“Stop that plane,” Ryker said.

Marco paused, his phone still in hand.

“Sir? It is already on the taxiway.”

“I don’t care if it is on the runway,” Ryker said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

“Call airport security.”

“Tell them a passenger on that flight is fleeing the country after committing child abandonment.”

“Tell them Ryker Steel demands the aircraft be grounded immediately.”

Marco nodded once, his expression hardening.

“Understood, sir,” Marco said, turning to make the call.

I looked back down at the children.

The boy had begun to cry, silent tears soaking into the fur of his bear.

The girl reached out and took her brother’s hand, squeezing it tight.

“Are we going to jail?” she asked me.