The screaming intensified immediately.
Again.
Up—softer.
Down—worse.
Three times. Same pattern.
Her heart began to pound.
The problem wasn’t the baby.
It was the crib.
She secured Luca safely on a couch with pillows and began inspecting everything: sheets, mattress, carved wood panels.
Then she saw it.
A small ivory silk pillow embroidered with the logo: Aurelia Luxe Interiors.
It didn’t match the rest.
She held it closer to Luca.
His cry exploded into something desperate.
She pulled it away.
He calmed slightly.
Isabella stepped inside.
“I don’t remember buying that,” she whispered. “It showed up a couple months ago. Around the time this started.”
Emily’s stomach dropped.
She discreetly cut a tiny fabric sample and slipped it into a sterile bag.
In the hallway, Margaret appeared again.
“What are you doing with that pillow?” she demanded.
“Testing everything that touches his skin.”
“Give it to me. That silk is imported.”
Emily held firm.
“With respect, ma’am, your grandson’s comfort matters more than imported silk.”
For a split second, Margaret’s anger flickered into something else.
Fear.
The next morning, the toxicology report came back.