Chapter 7
The police arrived before noon.
This was no longer a hospital mistake.
This was an emergency.
A newborn was gone with people who could not be reached.
My newborn.
Maybe.
Probably.
The word probably almost broke me.
Nia paced the waiting room barefoot because she had kicked off her shoes without noticing.
Jacob sat with his head in his hands.
My mother arrived after I called her.
She wrapped Nia in a hug before she hugged me.
I expected jealousy.
I expected anger.
Instead, I felt grateful.
Nia collapsed against her and cried, “My baby.”
Mom looked at me over Nia’s shoulder.
Her face said what neither of us could.
We had wasted hours fighting over the wrong truth.
A detective named Carla Reyes took our statements.
She was sharp, direct, and tired in the way good detectives often are.
“Did anyone know you planned to deliver here?”
Nia nodded.
“My mom. Marcus’s mom. Jacob.”
Detective Reyes looked at Jacob.
He lifted his hands.
“I didn’t take a baby.”
“No one said you did,” she said.
But her eyes did not soften.
She asked about enemies.
Debts.
Custody issues.
Former partners.
Family pressure.
Then she asked about the name.
Nia looked down.
Detective Reyes noticed.
“Explain.”
Nia told her everything.
The car accident.
Jacob.
The possible paternity.
The secret.
The detective listened without judgment.
When Nia finished, Reyes said, “So two men were emotionally attached to the child before birth, and neither knew the full truth.”
I said, “I did not take him.”
“I believe you’re here because you didn’t.”
Jacob said nothing.
The detective turned to him.
“And you?”
His voice was flat.
“I came because I thought he might be mine.”
“And when you found out he wasn’t?”
Jacob looked at the baby in the carrier.
“I felt ashamed that I had wished for something that wasn’t mine.”
For the first time, I believed he was not my enemy.
Not fully.
Detective Reyes left to review security footage.
Hours dragged.
Then the door opened.
Reyes came back with a tablet.
“Hospital camera shows the Grants leaving at 7:42 a.m. yesterday. The baby they took had a cap labeled Jacob Brooks.”
My last name.
Nia gasped.
“They knew?”
“Maybe not. The bracelets matched the paperwork they had.”
“How?”
“That is what we’re finding out.”
The risk manager looked like she might faint.
Reyes continued.
“There is more. Melissa Grant’s maiden name is Carter.”
Nia stiffened.
“That’s my last name.”
“Any relation?”
Nia shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Detective Reyes handed her a photo.
Nia stared at it.
Then her face changed.
“Oh my God.”
“What?” I asked.
She pointed to Melissa.
“I know her. She used to go to my church when we were kids. My mother knew her mother.”
My mother looked at me.
Family pressure.
Former connections.
Secrets.
They were all starting to line up.
Nia grabbed her phone and called Denise.
Her mother answered on the second ring.
“Nia, honey, I was about to call you.”
Nia put the phone on speaker.
“Do you know Melissa Grant?”
Silence.
Detective Reyes leaned closer.
Denise’s voice changed.
“Why?”
“Answer me.”
“She’s an old family friend.”
“My baby was discharged to her.”
A sharp breath came through the phone.
Then nothing.
“Mom?”
Denise whispered, “I told her not to do anything stupid.”
The room froze.
Detective Reyes mouthed, keep her talking.
Nia’s voice shook.
“What did you do?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From a scandal. From Marcus leaving. From Jacob fighting. From everyone knowing you didn’t know who the father was.”
I felt sick.
Nia swayed.
My mother held her up.
Denise continued, crying now.
“Melissa lost two babies. She was desperate. She said if yours caused too much trouble, if you couldn’t handle it, maybe God had made a way.”
Nia screamed, “Where is my son?”
Denise sobbed.
“I don’t know.”
“Mom!”
“I swear. Melissa said they were driving south. She said no one would look if the hospital thought it was a paperwork mistake.”
Detective Reyes was already moving.
May you like
“South where?” Nia cried.
Denise whispered, “Savannah.”
