Then Icried, "What has happened to my son!"I swore that somehow I would find a way to heal my son.Chapter 2I began thinking about how I could convince...the police that this was myson when I arrived there. That was a good question. I'd raised the boyfor six years prior to the kidnapping. I knew him better than anyoneelse, so I knew how to tell that this was my son, but the police wouldnot be so certain. But they surely would have ways to identify him.We arrived at the station and I begrudgingly. She managed a sip and said, "I'm sorry for last night. I really didn't expect you to be here this morning." Why not?" I drank too much last night. When I drink too much, sometimes I say things." You didn't offend me, if that's what you're thinking," I said.She patted my hand. "That's good."I found some Gatorade in the fridge and made her drink it, along with some aspirin from my purse. After two additional cups of coffee and some toast, she looked halfway human.I'd done a lot of thinking over. More

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