King John
The most pressing thing that told me Lauryn was Jaime’s mother was her description of how she left her. It was classified information that even the orphanage staff had no access to. The color of the blanket, the nest, covering her in mud; only the person who left her there and the patrolman who found her knew that. No way this woman who had spent the last five years or so in captivity would be able to give such a detailed account.
Jaime was sitting on the park bench beside Bree and my mother, swinging her legs back and forth.
She was trying to show Gabby an origami bird my mother had made. Gabby watched in awe. I stood just a few feet away. Quincy said they were pulling up soon, so I wanted to make sure they saw us.
Lyla had been placed on house arrest for the time being.
