Chapter 1 - The Drawing Beneath Noah’s Crib
Mateo walked slowly down the upstairs hallway with Noah tucked securely against his chest.
The newborn slept inside a soft white blanket trimmed in pale blue, one tiny cheek resting against Mateo’s charcoal-gray shirt. Warm wall sconces cast soft pools of light along the cream-colored walls. Framed family photographs stretched toward the nursery door at the far end of the hall.
Then Mateo stopped.
Lila stood pressed against the wall.
Her yellow polka-dot pajamas were wrinkled at the knees. Her dark brown pigtails had come partly loose, and tears ran silently down her cheeks.
She was clutching a bright pink spiral notebook against her chest.
A few paces behind her stood Camille.
Calm.
Almost.
She wore an ivory blouse and beige trousers, her long dark hair falling neatly over one shoulder.
But the smile on her face looked forced.
Mateo adjusted Noah slightly without loosening his secure hold.
“Lila... why are you scared?”
The little girl looked at Camille.
Then back at her father.
Her fingers trembled as she opened the pink notebook.
She flipped quickly through several pages filled with uneven letters, hearts, houses, and childlike drawings before stopping at one covered in shaky handwriting.
Lila held it toward Mateo.
“SHE SAID SHE’D TAKE NOAH AWAY IF I TOLD YOU.”
Mateo’s expression changed instantly.
Camille’s smile disappeared.
She stepped toward Lila.
Mateo raised his free arm across the hallway immediately, blocking her while keeping Noah firmly against his body.
“STAY AWAY FROM HER.”
Camille stopped.
“Mateo—”
He did not look at her.
He took the notebook carefully from Lila.
Then turned the page.
A child’s drawing filled most of it.
The nursery.
Noah’s crib.
A crude rectangle beneath it colored dark purple.
And underneath, in large uneven letters:
SHE PUT SOMETHING UNDER HIS BED.
Mateo slowly raised his eyes toward the nursery door.
Then toward Camille.
“What did you put in my son’s room?”
Camille took one step backward.
“MATEO... DON’T GO IN THERE.”
Mateo’s face hardened.
Lila grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands, careful not to touch Noah.
Her little finger lifted toward the nursery.
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“DADDY... SHE DID IT LAST NIGHT.”
Camille’s face turned pale.
