Jory, the oldest, had fought the men.
He tried to protect his brothers.
Tobin had become ill.
And Ned had been terrified.
The witness claimed the boys were moved to different locations.
Some were kept under false identities.
Others were transferred to people connected to the criminal network.
The details were incomplete.
Some statements were inconsistent.
And investigators warned us that the witness might not know everything.
But one possibility remained.
MY SONS MIGHT STILL BE ALIVE.
The search became an international investigation.
Authorities followed financial trails.
Travel records.
And information provided by cooperating witnesses.
They worked with agencies in several jurisdictions.
The process was slow.
And painful.
Months passed.
Then one afternoon, a detective called.
“Margaret, we need you to come in.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
He hesitated.
“We may have located someone.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Who?”
A pause.
Then:
“Your oldest son.”
Jory was twenty-two.
He had been sixteen when he disappeared.
