I shouldn’t move.
She didn’t know why not, she just knew she shouldn’t.
The police had been in their home since an hour after baby Mason was taken. Her daughter had been whisked to her grandmother’s house to shield her from the trauma of watching her parents fall to pieces. At seven, Maisy wasn’t old enough to understand the gravity of the situation, but she’d seen her mother lose her mind, running around the sea turtle Center screaming and sobbing. She had some idea things were bad.
Shana knew she’d have to address the effect the scene had had on Maisy, but later, when Mason was returned. Right now, for her daughter, it would be just another day at Mom-Mom’s, making cookies and watching cartoons.
She and her husband sat on their sofa, huddled together, both of them praying someone would soon demand a ransom. Anything to know little Mason was still alive. Shana’s body felt carved from marble. Something inside her demanded she hold perfectly still.
Don’t move and everything will be okay.
She feared if she shifted the spell would be broken and Mason would be gone forever. When her husband pulled his hand from her sweaty palm to scratch his nose, she almost stopped breathing. She laid her palms flat on her thighs and held them there so he couldn’t make her move again.
I might have already ruined everything, rubbing my eye.
Shana wasn’t sure holding still helped, but she did know one thing: she’d never forgive herself. How could she have left the baby on the ground? He’d been right behind her, less than a foot away—how did she not sense someone taking him?
The kidnapper was a woman. The police knew that much. The security cameras had caught a glimpse of her and what looked like a stroller, but from what the cops said, they hadn’t seen much else. The woman had been parked in such a way they didn’t see her vehicle, either. She’d probably been planning the abduction for weeks. The stroller was probably empty, waiting to have a stolen baby placed inside. Though, they didn’t find Mason’s car seat, which was strange. She had to take Mason out of the car seat to put him in the stroller, didn’t she? Maybe it fit inside. Maybe the kidnapper brought a stroller big enough for a car seat to fit inside on purpose.
Shana swallowed and wondered if flexing her throat muscles counted as moving.
Stop. The details don’t matter. What matters is Mason is gone.
Saying those words in her head made the tears well up again, and she hung her head to concentrate and force them back. She could tell everyone was getting annoyed with her crying—her husband, the detectives—she could tell. Tears didn’t help anything, but she couldn’t stop.
She glanced at her husband and he offered her a weak, hopeful smile.
He’ll never forgive me.
This will be the end of us.
Carl had been calm so far—loving, supportive, offering words of hope when she needed them— but there was a distance to it all. It was as if he couldn’t bear to touch her, could barely stand to look at her, the woman who’d lost his son.
When the baby wasn’t recovered he’d never forgive her for turning her back on Mason.
It had only been a few seconds.
The car seat was so heavy and Maisy needed help—
She felt the sofa cushion bounce as Carl straightened.
“What is it?” he asked the officer.
She looked up.
He saw something. Something’s happening.
Detective Jimenez held a cell phone to his ear. She hadn’t heard it ring. Jimenez acknowledged Carl’s question by holding up a finger, asking for a moment. A few seconds later he said Got it okay okay bye and lowered the phone to his side. He looked at them and smiled.
He’s smiling. What does that mean?
Shana felt hope flutter in her chest.
“They’re returning him,” said Jimenez.
“What?” Shana almost whispered the word, more afraid to move now than ever. She couldn’t help it.
“You have him?” asked Carl.
Shana nodded. That was the question to ask.
I should have asked that.
Jimenez shook his head, but he raised a palm as if to say, I’m going to say ‘no’ but don’t be alarmed.
“Not yet,” is what he did say. “Someone called the station and said they were leaving the baby for us to pick up.”
“Where? Why? Who steals a baby just to give it back?” asked Carl.
Shana’s arm shot out before she could stop it and she slapped her husband in the middle of his chest with the back of her hand.
“Who cares? Why would you ask that? You’re going to jinx everything!”
He looked at her as if she wasn’t someone he recognized, and she realized how crazy she must appear, between the tears and the swollen eyes and the rage that shot through her upon hearing Carl’s stupid, stupid question.
“I just mean, it’s strange, isn’t it? To steal a baby and then give it back?” he mumbled.
Jimenez shook his head. “You’d be surprised. It isn’t that weird for someone to change their mind about something bad they did.”
Shana felt her fear turning to anger. Horrible woman… Who is this horrible woman who would put us through this just to change her mind?
She looked up. Everyone was staring at her.
I said it out loud.
She knew then she’d said her angry thoughts out loud but she didn’t say woman. She’d said a much worse word. The sort of word she’d trained herself not to say anymore now that she’d moved into Carl’s world.
Carl frowned at her. He didn’t like it when she reminded him of her modest beginnings. She was his wife now. She had to
