Hiram Lodge wore a pristinely pressed suit to his sentencing.

Betty sat beside Veronica at the front of the pews the day before sentencing as he was found guilty of charge after charge after charge. She collapsed into Archie's arms on the other side of her, and Betty rubbed her back while a guard placed him in handcuffs.

Likewise, though Veronica wore sunglasses to the sentencing, Betty still held tightly to her hand when she sensed her best friend's tears had begun flowing freely. She kept hold of her hand as the judge read through her official sentences:

In the matter of election fraud, I sentence you to no less than five years imprisonment.

In the matter of intimidating witnesses, I sentence you to eight years imprisonment.

In the matter of conspiracy to commit a felony, I sentence you to ten years imprisonment.

In the matter of conspiracy to commit murder, I sentence you to ten years imprisonment.

In the matter of murder in the first degree, I sentence you to life imprisonment.

He was charged and found guilty of several other crimes, such as failing to report assault on minor inmates in his juvenile cell block, and for a long list of prison-related corruption charges. He was given the opportunity of parole after twenty five years in a federal penitentiary in New York, but given his age, Betty considered it unlikely that he'd ever walk the streets of Manhattan again.

And he'd definitely never live to return to Riverdale.

Betty was on the receiving end of one look from Hiram Lodge as he glanced over at Veronica while the guards led him out of the courtroom. His eyes left his daughter, briefly flickered to Archie beside her, and landed on Betty. The hatred, anger and malice behind the glare was so strong that, had she been on the receiving end of it in her youth, it would have made her run away in fear.

As it was, Special Agent Elizabeth Jones, FBI, merely smiled back at him as he disappeared from her life for good.

Hermosa Lodge joined them all for coffee half an hour later. She wore sunglasses, like Veronica, but was in significantly better spirits as she informed the group that her son Javier was doing well in his schooling, and that her partner Lacey kept him adequately distracted with gelato and Disney movies throughout the trial.

Veronica absentmindedly rubbed her bulging pregnant belly, and kept Archie's hand gripped in her own. The coffee cup before her went cold before she even took a sip.

Betty's phone pinged with a message from Jughead, and she pulled it out to check. The girls are making lunch (a mess). He'd attached a photo of Emma and Linda, both grinning as they spread Nutella and coloured sprinkles over pieces of bread. Emma appeared to have gotten most of the Nutella on her face, but Betty still smiled as she turned the phone around to show off the photo to the other adults in her presence.

The image brought out the first smile Betty had seen on Veronica's face since she'd found out her baby was a boy.

…

Things settled a little in the aftermath of Hiram Lodge's trial.

Well, emotionally they settled. The stakes were nowhere near as high, but Betty still had her work cut out for her as the FBI overhauled the records of every single one of Hiram Lodge's prisoners.

Fifteen percent of them were released on parole within two weeks of his sentencing.

While morally releasing the wrongfully imprisoned was a good thing, because most of the prisoners had been homeless before their convictions, logistically, it was a nightmare. Riverdale needed a new mayor to deal with the fallout, and to work towards reforming and rescuing the Town With Pep.

Luckily, several members of the community were willing to step up, and an emergency election was called to vote in a new mayor.

Alice Smith was one of these people.

She willingly agreed to be the running mate of Sierra Keller, and should Sierra get elected Alice would lead alongside her as the town's deputy mayor.

"Sierra wants to create jobs by building new apartment blocks on the South Side." Alice tittered about the kitchen, preparing lunch for the family with assistance from Betty and Polly. "And she's considering - assuming, of course, that we can have ownership of the prison turned over to the town - shutting down the juvenile wing and turning it into a housing commission."

Betty frowned as she buttered slices of bread. "Turning a juvenile prison into housing seems a little… dark." She said solemnly.

But Alice wasn't deterred. "Be that as it may, we've had a lot of support from the disillusioned residents of Sketch Alley." She handed Polly a tray of cold cuts, and looked at Betty. "It was a school, once upon a time. And if it's presented in the right way at the town meeting next week, I don't foresee an issue." She looked hopefully at Betty. "Perhaps, if the Riverdale Register was to publish an article in support of our cause…"

Betty sighed as she handed Polly two slices of buttered bread. "I'll ask Jughead to write something up."

Alice clapped her hands together. "No need! I've already written it."

Later that night, as Betty and Jughead sat down in the office to give their online newspaper's publication a quick read-through, she was surprised to find that Jughead was in support of the article - and by extension, Sierra's plans for Riverdale.

"I know it sucks, Betty." He said quietly. "But until they've built enough actual housing to support everyone in the town… it isn't the worst idea to use the resources available. Especially if it means wrongfully convicted kids are going to be released."

Considering the release of prisoners by the FBI was only adding to the South Side's homeless population, Betty was forced to agree with him.

…

The Jones family had one final day of calm happiness in celebrating Bethany's first birthday. Jughead admitted it seemed silly to have a party for a one year old, who was completely unconcerned with the amount of attention she was getting from her doting grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. But even so, Betty and their older children were excited to plan the small backyard party, and Jughead only felt warmth as he helped them blow up pink and purple balloons.

Bethany had all her baby teeth. They'd cut through over a three week period when she was ten months old; it was the only time Bethany had ever truly been 'fussy'. Jughead and Betty had to take turns at night rocking and holding Bethany while she cried, and they constantly rubbed numbing gel onto her gums to give her some relief. That ridiculous little rubber giraffe that all teething infants seemed to have was always in her mouth, and even once her teeth finished growing, Bethany seemed to reach for the toy more than any others.

Jughead didn't particularly care what the little girl's age claimed: she was still a baby to him. It was with a feeling of grief that he had to come to terms with the fact that she was growing, and she'd existed now for over a year. Bethany said her first words at exactly eleven months old; "Da Da Da", she'd babbled, pointing up at Jughead, and Betty begrudgingly accepted that it counted.

Though her attempts to get Bethany to say anything that resembled "Momma" had been in vain.

The baby (because that's what she still was, Jughead refused to believe otherwise) still couldn't walk, but Betty had excitedly called Jughead into the girls' bedroom when she found Bethany standing up, holding the railings of her crib on the morning of her first birthday. Later, the parents spent fifteen minutes trying to convince her to walk the three steps between them, but Bethany did little more than giggle and topple over into her mother's arms.

Jughead was fine with that. It meant he could hold onto her innocent infancy just a little longer.

Five days after Bethany turned one, Jughead's abusive ex-wife was released from prison.

He could tell that Betty was worried about him. She'd gone out of her way to let him know that she was there if he wanted to talk. But what could he say? That the crushing fear that Cora would come after their son had been hovering over his head from the moment he found out she could be released? He was pretty certain Betty already knew that, and dwelling on the possibility wasn't going to change anything.

But as weeks passed, and then months passed, Jughead felt himself giving in to the feeling of safety that being in Riverdale provided. Sierra was appointed the position of mayor, and her deputy, Alice, dutifully took over delegating town funds and aid to the people on the South Side. Archie was relieved that his next-door-neighbour was taking his plight to restore the South Side seriously, and the two were often seen together working with the local youths, helping them apply for jobs at Andrews Construction or at the newly minted grocery store.

Of course, as Jughead had come to learn, safety in post-Hiram Lodge Riverdale was a relative ideal that had no guarantees…

Jughead emerged from the ensuite late at night, his hair still damp from the shower and his legs exposed to the cool spring air thanks to the relatively ineffective boxer shorts he'd pulled on. He carried his discarded clothes and towel to the hamper in the corner of the bedroom, and watched as Betty lifted one eyebrow and smirked.

"Why did you bother getting dressed?" She asked, then sat up on her knees as Jughead walked closer to the bed. "You know you're just going to take those off again." She indicated his boxer shorts, and Jughead matched her smirk as he crawled onto the bed.

"Maybe I was just looking forward to the exquisite pleasure of watching my wife remove them." He said, his smirk morphing into a grin as he reached out and placed his hand on Betty's hip. The smooth texture of her silk pyjama shorts tickled his skin as he pulled her closer to his body and drew her into a kiss.

Betty breathed a sigh into his mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The press of her body against his own warmed his bare chest. He tilted her backwards, settling above her and slowly kissing down her neck. Her legs had just wrapped around his back, her heels digging into the very top of his thighs and slowly sliding up further…

… when a hysterical cry of "Dad!" echoed throughout the house.

It was followed by another yell: "Dad! Mom! Help me!" And then a panicked scream. By that point, Jughead had scrambled off the bed, and nearly tripped over his feet on his race to make it down the hallway into Jordan's bedroom.

Jughead forced open the door and scanned the empty bedroom. "Jordan?" He hissed, his eyes widening and his chest heaving as he frantically searched for his son.

His heart skipped a few beats when he was answered with silence… but then he heard it: a faint, gasping cry coming from beneath the child's bed. Jughead let out a long breath and made a few steps to the bedside, then took a deep breath before he crouched down to look beneath it.

Jordan stared back up at him, his face pale and his eyes unblinking.

"Buddy, what's wrong?" Jughead asked, calming his voice as his eyes ran over Jordan's shivering form.

Jordan slowly raised his arm and pointed past Jughead's legs. "Cora was there." He whispered, his voice shaking.

Jughead froze and slowly turned in the direction Jordan pointed… Jughead tensed up as he realised Jordan's hand was pointing at the closet.

Betty materialised in the doorway, her gun raised and a hard expression on her face. "Where is she?" She said sternly, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the room. Jughead nodded to the closet, and Betty took several steps forward. "Jug, take Jordan out of the room." She demanded without even a trace of leniency.

Jughead ducked his head below the bed. "Come on, let's go." He said quietly.

Jordan's eyes were glued to Betty's gun as he slowly crawled out from underneath the bed. Jughead took his hand and half-dragged him out of the bedroom. As they rounded the corner into the hallway, Jughead heard the subtle click of Betty loading the barrel.

When they reached the kitchen, Jughead turned around and faced the hallway. He felt the heat of Jordan's shivering body as the child hid behind his back. Jughead waited to hear… something, but all was quiet in the Jones house.

Almost two minutes later, Betty emerged slowly out of the bedroom. The gun hung low against her side, and she was frowning as she kept her eyes on the floor.

Jordan peeked his head around Jughead. "Did you get her, Mom?"

Betty let out a sigh as she came closer. She bent down and made eye contact with Jordan. "There was nobody in there, Jordy."

Jordan reached out and gripped Jughead's arm. "No… she was in there! Did you check the closet?"

Betty reached her hand out and ran it through Jordan's hair. "Yes, honey. I looked everywhere." Her eyes flickered up to Jughead, an unreadable expression on her face.

Jughead maneuvered his arm around Jordan's shoulders. "I think you had a nightmare, Bud."

Jordan's breathing was still labored, but a little of the tension left his body as he said: "Really? But… I really thought she was there…"

Betty gave him a kind smile. "You know, sometimes nightmares seem so real. It can feel like… bad people are after you." She straightened up and ran her thumb over Jordan's cheek. "Do you want to talk about your bad dream?"

Jordan leaned against Jughead. "Cora was leaning over me…" He said, then swallowed. "She told me I had to come with her…" Jughead rubbed Jordan's arm, and the boy continued, "but I started screaming. Just like you said, Mom."

Betty smiled and ruffled his hair. "Good. That's really good, okay?" She leaned forward and kissed the top of his head. "You make sure you do that every time, alright? Even if it isn't real."

Jordan nodded. He yawned a little and looked up at Jughead, his eyes begging for comfort. "Can I sleep in your room tonight?"

"Yeah, of course you can." Jughead said, then leaned down to pull Jordan into a hug. "Everything's okay, Bud. We're here."

Jordan had relaxed significantly by the time Jughead turned him around and guided him towards his and Betty's room. When he didn't hear Betty following, Jughead looked over his shoulder to raise his eyebrows at her.

"Aren't you coming?" He asked.

Betty gave him a tight smile. "I just want to check that the house is all locked up. You two go ahead."

An hour later, when Jordan had finally gone to sleep, Jughead left the bedroom in search of his wife. She was wide awake and seated on their couch, her gun resting atop the coffee table as a gloomy mood seemed etched into her face.

"Betts?" Jughead asked quietly, moving closer to the couch.

Betty looked up at him, a grim look in her eyes as she said: "Jordan's bedroom window was open."

…

It may have only been slightly ajar. And yes, Betty had to concede that she may not have closed it properly the last time it was opened. But if the window was open the same night that Jordan had 'dreamed' Cora was in his bedroom… it wasn't a coincidence that Betty was willing to ignore.

Neither, it seemed, was Jughead.

He ordered new window locks from the local hardware store that night. The website claimed they'd be ready for pickup the next afternoon, and Jughead assured Betty he'd collect them on his way home from the high school.

While Jordan seemed not to be dwelling on his apparent nightmare the next morning as Betty prepared him a bowl of cereal, she wasn't willing to discredit the possibility that maybe… it really had been Cora.

She took a moment while in the FBI Headquarters to search through Cora's records again. Her parole officer was thorough, and detailed the fact that he'd checked in with her two days earlier. She had been in Long Island, living with her mother as was required, and had apparently secured a job as a waitress. Nothing in her file screamed 'repeat offender'. And in any case, Betty was certain that none of the Carters knew where the Jones family lived.

But even so…

"Jones."

Betty's head snapped up to look at Director Lincoln. He was giving her a quizzical look, and Betty sat up straighter as she realised that probably hadn't been the first time the man had said her name. "Sorry, what did you say?" She asked.

Lincoln sighed. "I need you to accompany Wendy while she seizes former Warden Golightly's electronics."

Betty logged out of her computer. "We got the warrant?"

"Oh yes. And then some." He said, walking alongside her as she made her way to the entrance of the office. "He'll be issued with an arrest warrant as soon as we confirm it was him downloading the CSAM files."

Betty sighed. "I can't believe Lodge let a child predator run the juvenile section of his Godforsaken prison."

Lincoln let out a dry laugh. "Yes, well. I'm sure Lodge will deny having any knowledge of the man's personal exploits."

"Wouldn't expect anything less from the former mayor."

Before she reached the door, Lincoln held out his arm to stop her. "Betty," he said seriously, "you know the New York headquarters have been monitoring our computers since Gordon's arrest."

Betty resisted the urge to react. "Indeed. And what's your point?"

Lincoln searched her face. "My point is just… be careful," he implored, "and don't go searching for information that isn't relevant to our active cases."

Betty gave him a tight smile. "I'm always careful, Lincoln."

…

Another week went by.

Jughead was thrilled by the fact that he'd reached the final few weeks of school before a desperately needed mental break. Not nearly as thrilled as Jordan, who diligently informed his father that he was dedicating the first day of Summer to teaching him how to navigate the new Fortnite Patch that he'd already downloaded to the X-Box.

It was the very thing Jughead had been thinking about as he bid his sophomore class farewell. He packed away his resources on their study of To Kill A Mockingbird, and pulled out the USB that had an old copy of the movie Amazing Grace (a treat for his AP literature students) that he planned on placing into the old projector. It was the lunch break, but he was in no hurry to get to the staff room, instead deciding to have everything set up before the students arrived. He doubted he'd be spending the entire lunch period fighting with the old projector, but if so he could always eat his leftover Caesar salad during the class (unfortunately, when it took more than fifteen minutes for the projector to co-operate, it seemed that skipping the lunch break may be more of a reality than he anticipated). It was as he plugged the USB into the now-running projector that he felt a buzzing coming from the smartwatch on his wrist.

Private Number was calling him. He tried not to let himself become fearful as he hastened to pull his cellphone out of the briefcase. He answered quickly, then held the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon. Am I speaking with Mr Jones?" Asked a nervous voice. He recognised Janine Withers, the receptionist at Jordan's school.

"You are."

"Mr Jones, I'm calling to inform you that Jordan's grandmother tried talking to him through the gate."

Jughead's blood ran cold. "Is Jordan okay?" He forced out.

"He's… fine. But he was quite hysterical when Miss Woods brought him in. She's calmed him down significantly." Janine said kindly. "We have him in the office, I can send him back to class when he settles down…"

"No, that's fine, I'll come and get him." Jughead said, and started buckling up his briefcase. "How long ago was she there?"

"Oh, not even five minutes ago. A staff member is talking to her right now I believe—"

"Thank you, I'll be there ASAP." Jughead said, and hung up the phone. He grabbed the briefcase from the desk, and called Betty before he even completely left the classroom.

She answered after several long rings. "Hey Jug. What's up?"

Jughead wasted no time with pleasantries. "How fast can you get to Jordan's school?"

When Jughead pulled into the parking lot at Riverdale Elementary, he could already tell that there was quite a commotion happening. Betty's Mustang parked illegally, the flashing red and blue lights of her portable police sirens reflecting off several car's windows. He recognised the principal and Jordan's first grade teacher standing beside a white Corolla.

Mrs Carter was seated on the asphalt, handcuffed. Betty glared at her while simultaneously engaging in what appeared to be in a tense discussion with the teachers.

Jughead caught the tail end of said discussion as he climbed out of the driver's seat.

"… really necessary?" Miss Tetra was asking Betty, a worried expression on her face as she looked over Mrs Carter.

"When your son lives in fear that he's going to be kidnapped," Betty snapped, turning her glare on the teacher, "then I will entertain your opinions on how to best handle the would-be perpetrator."

Both teachers flinched, and Mrs Carter gave Betty an icy look as Jughead approached. "I was doing nothing of the sort!" She shouted. "It's not illegal for a grandparent to want to see their grandson!"

Betty ignored the woman and looked at Jughead. "Jordan's in the office." She said simply.

Jughead nodded. "Yeah. And what are we going to do about her?"

Betty's lips thinned into a straight line. "I'll deal with this." She said frostily, and glared back down at Mrs Carter. "You go and make sure she hasn't traumatised Jordan to the point of no return." She spared another look at Jughead before adding: "I'll call you when I'm done at the station."

Jughead tried to exude a sense of pure calm as he steeled himself at the reception doors.

…

Mrs Carter was no more friendly as she sat in the interrogation room at the Sheriff's station. She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched Betty enter the room, and her glare hardened as Betty took a seat across from her. "You have no right to keep me here." She growled, her voice shooting daggers at Betty. "When my son gets here you're going to answer for this crime against my constitutional rights!"

Betty's calm demeanour didn't crack. Cainon Carter was his mother's one phone call when she was brought into the station. Even if he disobeyed every traffic law in the state of New York, there was no way he'd be in Riverdale for at least two more hours. Betty was truthfully surprised Mrs Carter hadn't requested a lawyer - then again, she doubted the woman was any more sane than her daughter.

"You were trespassing on private property. Property that you are aware you've been banned from." Betty said dryly. "That is a misdemeanour at best." When Mrs Carter merely deepened her glare, Betty leaned forward and folded her hands together on top of the table. "Where's Cora today, Mrs Carter?"

Fury reigned in the older woman. "Don't you dare say my daughter's name! You have no right to speak of her."

"I think you will find," Betty said demurely, "that I know my rights a lot better than you know yours."

Mrs Carter's gaze narrowed. "You disgust me." She said venomously. "You and your pathetic husband. Six years he's kept my grandson from me. Not to mention the inexcusable way he manipulated the court into taking away Cora's rights."

Betty let out a humourless laugh. "Inexcusable? No. What's inexcusable is you telling a seven year old boy that his father will die if he tells the truth about what lies you've been filling his head with."

Mrs Carter kept glaring, but didn't respond.

"What did you think was going to happen, huh?" Betty said, resisting the urge to grin with the feeling of immense pleasure she took from seeing Mrs Carter's self-righteous malice disintegrate. "Did you think he'd just happily leave with you, a complete stranger?"

"I'm not a stranger to him." She said sourly. "No thanks to his father. Who's done nothing to teach Jordan about his family. And did nothing to let him meet his mother."

Betty didn't have the energy to argue about how much Jughead had tried to keep Jordan in contact with the Carters. She leaned back against her seat. "You realise even if you did get to see Jordan, and by some miracle we let him visit you, Cora still can't have anything to do with him." She said wistfully. "She can't even be within two hundred yards of him or she'll be in violation of her restraining order. You want your daughter to get thrown in prison again? Because encouraging any kind of contact between Cora and Jordan is only going to end one way."

Mrs Carter grimaced. "We could sue you, you know."

Betty snorted. "For what? Following the law?"

"When we prove that the FBI intimidated witnesses into saying that Cora tried to hurt Jordan," she said solemnly, "then we'll have all the proof we need to have a judge reinstate her parental rights." She cocked her head to the side, an arrogant expression on her face. "Riverdale's FBI are known to work with criminals. Criminals like your husband. There's not a single scrap of real evidence against my daughter."

"Oh really? And how do you expect to explain Jughead's shattered wrist?"

Mrs Carter waved her hand dismissively. "Self inflicted."

Betty stayed quiet for a long moment as she stared unblinkingly at Mrs Carter. Finally, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You know… when I was pregnant with our first daughter, I was extremely hormonal." She explained. "And Jughead, well, he'd catch the worst of it." Her expression hardened as she continued. "This one time, I was mad at him; over something silly, of course, not that pregnancy hormones like to differentiate between logic and insanity. But the second I raised my voice, Jughead flinched away from me. Like he thought I was going to hit him." Betty successfully kept the emotion out of her voice as she spoke her next words: "Your daughter did that to him."

Mrs Carter merely upheld her glare.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Betty heard Sheriff Keller's voice. "Mrs Carter, you're free to go."

Betty whipped her head around. "Excuse me?!" She exclaimed.

"As I should be." Mrs Carter said angrily as she stood up from the table. "You'll all be hearing from my lawyer about this!" She huffed, and made her way towards the doorway.

Betty stood up and gave Sheriff Keller a furious, piercing glare. "You can't be serious?" She protested as Mrs Carter exited the room. "This woman was caught trespassing!"

Another voice answered. "And the school isn't pressing charges." Director Lincoln walked into the room behind Sheriff Keller. He looked at the man and nodded. "You can go, I need a word with my agent."

Betty was seething as Sheriff Keller left the interrogation room, right behind Mrs Carter. "You're letting her leave?!"

"Yes, Betty. I am." Lincoln said without a hint of mercy. "Because that is what the law dictates we do. You remember the law, right, Betty? The same law that you vowed to uphold?"

Betty felt the sudden urge to shove Lincoln halfway across the room. "That woman has been stalking my son for over two years! You can't expect me to just let her go."

"Oh, I can. And I do. Because legally, she's done nothing wrong." Lincoln said. He softened his expression slightly. "I know how frustrating it is, but—"

"No, you don't know." Betty protested. "She's actively told my kid that his birth mother is going to come and take him away. And I can't arrest her for trying to approach him on private property?!"

"Look, Betty, I can look the other direction when you're obsessively searching our databases for information on your husband's ex-wife." Lincoln said, his clear frustration etched into his face. "What I can't do is pretend that you were justified in arresting a woman for trespassing when she wasn't even on school grounds."

"The school owns the parking lot." Betty grumbled, but Lincoln merely crossed his arms over his chest.

"A technicality that you should be damned happy exists if you want to keep your job." Lincoln said, exasperation in his voice. "Go home." He said abruptly. As Betty opened her mouth to protest, he held up one hand. "No, I'm not listening to your excuses. Go and get some R&R, then come back tomorrow without this vigilante attitude."

Betty didn't stop herself from slamming the door behind her as she left the room.

When Betty retrieved her handbag, she gave herself ten seconds to calm down her breathing. The anger she felt was dark, but she reminded herself that Jordan was fine, he was with Jughead, and regardless of what his grandmother said to him he always seemed able to bounce back and remain the happy child she'd come to know.

She caught a glimpse of Mrs Carter arguing with Sheriff Keller, but forced herself to put her focus back on her handbag. She pulled her phone out and realised that she had missed a call from Emma and Bethany's daycare center and had—wait, eight missed calls from Jughead?! He'd also messaged her several times, but the writing was an unintelligible mess that she couldn't decipher for the life of her.

Her heart rate was far from back to normal when she tapped his contact number and held the phone up to her ear. She only heard the phone ring for a fraction of a second before Jughead answered.

"Betty." His voice was so choked up and thick with sorrow that Betty's heart lurched. "Betty, she's… she's…"

Betty heard a rush of footsteps sprinting past the station's locker rooms. Director Lincoln was among the trio of law enforcement officers who pushed past Mrs Carter and Sheriff Keller on their way to the station's exit. Lincoln paused, turned back and said something to Keller, whose face paled as he slowly shifted to face Betty.

"Jug, what?" Betty asked, distracted by the anguished look she was receiving from both Keller and Lincoln.

"Beth… she's…" Jughead let out a sob, and Betty snapped back into attention. "Someone… took her."

Crushing nausea welled up in Betty's chest. "What do you mean? Juggie, what are you saying?"

Her head was spinning dangerously when Jughead spoke again. "She's been kidnapped."

Betty noted that Lincoln was approaching her slowly, his face showing both sympathy and concern… but Betty gripped her phone tighter and dropped it down to her side as the anger reached a boiling point. She shoved past Lincoln and stalked her way towards Mrs Carter.

Mrs Carter rolled her eyes. "What do you want now—"

"Where is she?!" Betty screamed. She shoved the other woman so hard that they both stumbled. "What the hell have you done to my baby?!"

"Betty!" Lincoln's arms wrapped around her tightly. He dragged her several feet backwards before Betty could successfully lock her hands around the woman's throat.

Betty fought against Lincoln's hold. "What kind of sick game are you playing? Where the hell have you taken my daughter?!"

"How can I have done anything to your unholy spawn?" Mrs Carter huffed. Then a sly, horrific smile slid onto her face as she said: "I've been here with you this whole time."

…

When Betty arrived at the daycare center in Lincoln's car, forced into the passenger seat after he'd declared she was in no state to drive, she saw instantly that there were squad cars everywhere. Both FBI agents and Sheriff's Deputies had been called to the location.

Jughead was standing by the gateway of the purple picket fence that surrounded the center, Emma clutched in his arms as the little girl had her face shoved into his neck. Jordan was right behind him, his face red and his hand clutched in Alice's while FP stood by, looking every bit as distraught as Betty felt.

Betty ran to her family, completely unable to take a breath until her eyes locked with Jughead's. He reached for her hand, keeping Emma supported with his other arm. Betty searched his face for answers, but found only despair and fear.

"What happened?!" Betty pleaded, begging the universe that Jughead would tell her it was all a sick joke.

Jughead coughed to clear his throat. "She pretended to be Polly…" He abruptly stopped his explanation as he was overwhelmed with emotion.

Betty shook her head. "No… this can't be happening…"

"Agent Jones." The FBI Agent that had been speaking to Jughead when she approached caught her attention. It was Agent DeNiro, an older man who Betty rarely interacted with. "You should take a look at this…"

He handed a folded slip of paper to her, and as Betty opened it she vaguely noted Jughead saying: "She put that in Emma's hands before she walked out with Beth."

But Betty couldn't focus on his words. She was too consumed by the perfectly looped cursive written in red ink across the paper.

You give me my kid and I'll give you yours.

…

At 2:57PM on June 17th, 2035, all of New York received the following message:

AMBER ALERT

RIVERDALE, New York.

Bethany Jones, one year old. Caucasian. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Wearing pink t-shirt and black leggings. Taken from Maple Street Early Learning Center in North Side of Riverdale 12:43 PM. Believed to be with Caucasian woman Cora Carter, early thirties, blonde hair, possibly wearing blue shirt with black "S" print. May take refuge in Long Island NY. Carter is dangerous. If seen, do NOT approach. Call 911 immediately.