My in-laws sent my daughter a teddy bear for her birthday—when she pointed to its eye, I realized something was terribly wrong, and three days later, the police were at their door

barely.

But it glowed.

Alejandro let out a breath as if he’d been punched in the chest.

“No,” he said quietly. “That can’t be.”

I ran my hands along the bear’s back. Near a seam I felt something hard, square, hidden inside the stuffing. It wasn’t a music box. It wasn’t an ordinary battery pack. It was something else.

My hands wanted to shake, but I didn’t continue reading …