I clicked on the link Logan sent me and was greeted by a grainy image, a silent video that looked like an old surveillance recording.
The scene unfolded in what appeared to be the lobby of a hospital. A middle-aged woman, pacing back and forth, clutched a child to her chest, seemingly trying to soothe the wailing bundle in her arms.
I was utterly baffled, thinking, "What the heck is Logan sending me here?"
But the next second, I froze. Another figure that came into view was Hazel Garry Dawson.
Hazel wasn't as heavy back then, and I recognized the dress she was wearing instantly. It was the one I'd bought for her when we threw the christening party for Probert.
That dress had cost a pretty penny, and she treasured it because of its price tag. She wore it everywhere, holding it dear to her heart.
There she was, in the video, clutching a stack of papers and striding purposefully across the room. After gesturing to the other woman, they both headed for the exit.
The video ended as they walked out the door.
I must have watched it a dozen times, zooming in on the face of the woman holding the child. However, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't place her.
What was Hazel doing with this woman, and why were they with a child?
My mind was spinning as I frantically redialed Logan's number, but the line was busy.
I put down the phone and replayed the video, with all my attention on the child this time.
It was impossible to make out any details. The child was swaddled in a thin blanket, looking so small.
Tears flooded my eyes, and a lump formed in my throat as I whispered, "My baby! My baby!"
Hannah looked at me with confusion, "What's wrong?"
"It's my baby!" I murmured, eyes still locked on the screen, "This has to be my lost baby."
Hannah realized something and asked, "What do you mean? Did you find a clue?"
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