The questioning at the convent went on for two and a half hours straight, all leading to much less than Danny Taylor needed. The testimonies had been terrible. Not one child had seen anything at all, or if they had, they hadn't been coaxed into revealing it. He held his forehead in his hand, scrunching his face against his open palm. Wanting nothing more than to scream out in frustration, he chose instead to calmly gather the notes from the interrogations.

He tried to convince himself that things could have been worse. Sr. Rachel, though a permanent fixture in the room, had remained as stoic as the religious statues outside. She allowed them to ask as many questions as they wanted, and true to form, she only aided when it was helpful.

However, when she announced that she was leaving the room to check on the children, both Martin and Danny felt a swell of relief. The door clicked shut behind her, and Danny let out a sigh.

"Well," Martin remarked. "That was a little less than successful."

"Which one was your favorite?" he asked, agitated.

"I liked the one where Godzilla did it."

Danny closed his eyes, not believing that that was actually the best they had done. Hell, at least in that one there had been an identified perpetrator. After all the blank stares, shrugging shoulders, and scared eyes, Danny was losing his enthusiasm.

"Don't pack up too soon," Martin said. "We still have one more."

"Who?"

"Kylie. Last name missing." Martin looked around before mumbling. "Like everything else in this place."

The comment irked him, but Danny understood why he had made it. Missing children, missing testimony, missing eyewitness account. Take away the few people left, the windows and curtains, and there was no orphanage at all. Burdened by his own pessimism, Danny shook his head.

Kylie...She was the new girl. In the midst of all the questioning, he had forgotten that she even attended the orphanage.

"Bring her in," Danny instructed.

And bam. The simple command worked its magic. Oxygen filled his lungs. He gained poise, he gained direction; he gained focus, all in a heartbeat. He could do this, he ordered himself. No matter what Kylie had or hadn't seen, it wasn't over. They could still be found...

The door opened, and an eleven-year-old girl with cropped-short blonde hair followed Sr. Rachel into the quiet library. Actually, Sr. Rachel had told Martin that it was a library. Danny knew the room was regularly used as a confessional, which was ironic considering their intentions there. Whether or not non-Catholics were intimidated by rooms like these, Danny couldn't say, but he had been uncomfortable from the second he stepped foot inside. Too many vulnerable moments took place behind walls like these; too many secrets were told.

He mentally rolled his eyes at himself. Maybe that was the real reason he was having such a difficult time with these interviews. That irritating notion of Catholic guilt. As his thought process shifted, Kylie found a seat. Introductions were made, and Danny sent the girl a disarming smile.

Kylie had no reaction. She stared off to the side. Where the other children had been anxious and skittish, Kylie was cool, seemingly disinterested with the entire situation.

Though he wanted to frown, he kept smiling. "Sr. Rachel tells me you're new to the convent."

Kylie kept her arms crossed at the waist. Her blonde strands strayed in the way of her eyes. "Yeah. So?"

Ah, the charm of youth. The static rolled right off his back. "So, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to meet you before this. I work around the convent, helping out mostly with legal matters, but I like to be a part of what happens here."

Kylie couldn't have looked more apathetic if she tried.

Seeing the fruits of Danny's tactics, Martin took a nosedive into business. "You know that Jason Coliandri went missing from the convent last night."

"Yeah."

Martin continued. "His sister disappeared right after that from Northeast Detention Center. All while you were here last night."

"Yeah." She shifted a little this time, as if she had a bug-bite on her neck and was trying to scratch it with her shoulder.

Danny honed in on her, looking right into her eyes. "So...what did you see last night?"

Kylie didn't even bat an eyelash. "Um, nothing?"

"Nothing?" Danny echoed disbelievingly. He looked down at the chart in front of him. "It says here that you live only one room down from Jason."

The arms pulled tighter. "Yeah, so?"

"So I've been in these rooms before." Danny tapped the wall behind him with his knuckle. "They're paper thin. Someone coughs on the other side of the wall, you hear it."

Kylie opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but then stopped, opting for the silent treatment. Staring in no particular direction, she pursed her lips, forcing any words that might come out back down her throat.

Danny, maintaining a brotherly approach, shrugged while smiling. "So you didn't hear anything."

Her silence was an answer in itself.

"You must be a sound sleeper," he said. "I know. I am, too. I could sleep through an elephant stampede during a Godsmack concert."

Danny waited for the chuckle, but somehow Kylie was able to contain herself.

With a deep breath, Martin took over. "Kylie, I'm going to be straight with you," he said. "We've been searching for Jordan and Jason since we heard of their disappearance. We're trying our hardest to find them, and we haven't had much luck. The truth is, we need your help." He asked her again, more seriously this time. "You sure you didn't see anything?"

Through her perpetual silence, Danny watched her, and as he watched her, he couldn't help but notice where he'd seen that look before. She looked like Jordan, just like Jordan as she had sat in the interrogation room at the NYPD, refusing to speak to anyone. Their stances were mirrors; their frowns, replicas.

That's when it hit. A scene from the week before closed Danny's eyes. Sr. Rachel's habit blew back in the light breeze. Roberto limped into the convent alongside Kylie. When both were out of sight, Sr. Rachel turned to him. 'She loves Jordan. Follows her around like she's a celebrity. Like it's her job...'

When his eyes opened, it took only a moment to catch Martin's eye. From his chair Danny pitched him a steady, meaningful stare. Martin read it perfectly. With nary a word, he blinked, rose to his feet, and motioned for Sr. Rachel to follow him. Revolted by the very idea, Sr. Rachel stubbornly rooted her feet in place and arched her neck to the side. Rolling his eyes, Martin latched onto her arm and wrenched her out into the hallway.

Despite a few whispered protests, the exchange was perfectly silent. Watching her caretaker leave the room, Kylie's cool and unaffected pose quivered. "What's going on?" she demanded. Her voice had changed. It was scared. "Why'd they leave the room?"

"Because," Danny said evenly, "it's time for you to start telling the truth."