The child stared at her hands.
“She said there was something in the house.”
“What kind of something?”
“My mommy said if she couldn’t come with us, I had to tell the police about the blue box.”
The social worker exchanged a glance with the nurse.
“What blue box?”
The girl looked toward the hospital doors.
“The one under her bed.”
At 4:12 p.m., officers returned to the house.
The mother had been transported to the hospital.
Harris went upstairs.
There was only one bedroom.
A narrow bed.
A small dresser.
A crib pushed against the wall.
And beneath the bed, exactly where the girl had described it, was a blue metal box.
It was locked.
Harris found a key taped beneath the dresser.
Inside were medical records.
Birth certificates.
Photographs.
A bank statement.
And several envelopes.
The first envelope contained the twins’ hospital records.
The second contained the mother’s insurance information.
