Chapter 1 - THE BABY HE WOULD NOT LET ME HOLD
The first thing I heard outside the delivery room was a newborn crying.
The second was my son shouting.
“Give him to me!”
Daniel crossed the maternity hallway so fast that the young nurse barely had time to step aside.
I had been holding the baby for less than thirty seconds. He was wrapped in a pale pink blanket because the hospital had run out of blue ones in the emergency nursery. His tiny mouth was open. His face was red from crying. I had just whispered, “Hello, sweetheart,” when Daniel grabbed him from my arms.
His shoulder struck my chest.
I lost my balance and hit the polished floor.
For one horrifying second, the baby slipped between us.
Daniel caught him against his black sweater before the child’s head hit the wall.
The nurse gasped.
Two security officers turned from the station.
An ER doctor came running.
I pushed myself up on one elbow, pain ripping through my hip.
Daniel stood over me, clutching the newborn too tightly.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Stay away from him.”
The words stunned me more than the fall.
I got to my feet and slapped him.
The sound cracked through the hallway.
His head snapped sideways.
He still protected the infant instinctively, one arm beneath the neck.
“What have you done?” I demanded.
For one second, he looked like the frightened eight-year-old I had raised after his father’s funeral.
Then his face closed.
“Nothing.”
Behind the delivery-room doors, Sophia cried out weakly.
Daniel turned toward the sound.
The young nurse stepped close to me.
Her fingers brushed my palm.
Something crumpled passed between us.
Her eyes did not move.
Neither did her mouth.
I closed my hand.
Security separated us.
The doctor checked the baby and said he was stable. Daniel claimed he panicked because I was holding him incorrectly.
It was a ridiculous lie.
I had worked twenty-two years as a neonatal nurse.
Daniel knew that.
I was moved into a consultation room to have my hip checked.
The young nurse entered with an ice pack.
When the door closed, I unfolded the paper she had slipped me.
Four words were written in blue ink.
ASK YOUR SON ABOUT 3:00 A.M.
I read them three times.
“What happened at three?” I whispered.
Her hands started shaking.
“I can’t talk here.”
“Why?”
“He checks the hallway camera.”
“My son?”
She looked at the ceiling, then at the door.
“At three this morning, someone brought another baby into the delivery wing.”
I went cold.
“What do you mean another baby?”
“The child Daniel is holding may not be the child Sophia delivered.”
I stood too quickly.
Pain cut through my side.
The nurse caught my arm.
“If he knows I told you, I lose my job.”
“You wrote the note.”
“I didn’t.”
I stared at her.
“Then who did?”
“A man in an orderly uniform. Older. Gray hair. He knew your name.”
Before I could ask more, the door opened.
Daniel stood there.
The baby was gone.
His gaze moved to the note in my hand.
Then to the nurse.
“What did she tell you?”
No one answered.
Daniel stepped inside and shut the door.
His face was calm now.
Too calm.
“You need to leave the hospital.”
“Where is the baby?”
“With Sophia.”
“Which baby?”
His expression cracked.
The nurse moved toward the panic alarm.
Daniel saw her hand.
“Don’t.”
She froze.
I stepped between them.
Then a phone began ringing inside the locked black briefcase at Daniel’s feet.
A woman’s voice came through the speaker.
“Daniel, they found the certificate.”
May you like
Daniel’s face went white.
And in that instant, I knew the baby in the pink blanket was only the beginning.
