LIAM

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to something on the floor. She knelt down, picked it up, and examined it.

“Arlene’s hair clip,” she answered, tossing it to Matilda, who nodded in agreement. “And…” She turned back to where she had picked it up. “A syringe.”

“A syringe?” I walked closer to the items.

“Here’s another,” Matilda said, pointing to the area where the babies had been lying.

I followed her hand and saw a needle rolled slightly under the bedside table. “They were drugged,” I muttered, kneeling to pick up the syringe, but stopped myself. “Don’t touch anything else. We need the cops to find things exactly as they...