“I’ll never miss a single milestone. First word, first step, first day of school. I’ll teach him to ride a bike—maybe even how to fly. He’ll always know I’m here.”
Every word had been a lie.
I slipped out of the house without saying anything. At the police station, I asked—again—if there was any news about my missing son.
The officer only shook his head. “Nothing new, Mrs. Carrington. At this point…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but I understood it perfectly.
I went back in a daze.
And then I saw it.
A crib in the living room.
Inside it lay a baby boy, fists curled, tiny sounds drifting from his lips. My heart nearly burst out of my chest. He had my son’s hair, my son’s dimple.
I stepped closer, shaking. Just one touch—
“HELP! Somebody help!” Delilah shrieked suddenly. “She’s trying to hurt the baby!”
“I’m not trying to hurt him!” I yelled, my throat raw, hands lifted in surrender while Delilah shrieked like I was some kind of threat.
“She’s lying!” Delilah sobbed, throwing herself over the crib as though I were about to attack. “She reached for him—she’s completely unstable!”
“I only wanted to—”