Until I Find You - Rea Frey Page 0,46
pills so she could sleep. I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that she’d hit her head.”
“Rebecca consented to let you watch the baby? Did she feed him or pick him up once she was home?”
“No.”
“But you stayed with him here while she slept?”
“I did. All day.”
“And how did the baby seem?”
“Well, like I told Rebecca, he was really fussy. Normally, Jackson is easy, but he seemed agitated. He cried and he didn’t want the milk she’d left. He just seemed like maybe he didn’t feel good.”
“During this time, you didn’t register anything different in his appearance?”
She’s quiet. “People don’t switch babies. That’s not a thing that happens.”
“Just answer the question, please.”
She lets out a shaky breath. “I mean, I don’t think so. I was also trying to juggle Baxter and I was watching a show, so I wasn’t one hundred percent focused on Jackson. He just seemed a bit more work than usual.”
“Do you think the baby upstairs is someone else’s, or do you think Rebecca is mistaken?”
My heart hammers so hard against my ribs, I fear I’m going to be sick.
“She’s been through a lot.” She drops her voice so much that I strain to hear.
“Yes, she has.” This time, I can hear him scribbling something.
“But to answer your question … I’m not sure. My gut says the baby upstairs is Jackson—just given the way Rebecca has been acting lately. It’s true I hadn’t held him for quite some time until today, but it’s just a feeling. She’s a brand-new mom. I remember being that tired. But I don’t want anything bad to happen to her or for anyone to question if she’s a good parent,” she rushes to add. “Because she’s a great mom.”
Her admission—even though partially complimentary—devastates any lingering hope that she believes me.
“Would you be willing to take a closer look at him to see if you might have a different opinion now?”
“Sure.”
Feeling caught, I push off the wall and wait in the hallway.
Jake rounds the corner. “Bec, do you mind if we check out the baby?”
“Sure. I’m going to get some air.” I grab my sweater off the hook in the foyer just in case the temperature has dropped and step outside. The air is crisp and reminds me of the autumn days ahead. All of the things I wanted to do with Jackson mock me: raking piles of leaves, making huge pots of chili, hay rides, carving pumpkins, settling into our new life as a twosome. I wanted to use these next few months to create a new normal between the two of us. How could all of it fall apart so quickly?
From upstairs, the baby screams and starts to cry. I half stand, so conditioned to rush to Jackson’s aide, but then I remember they are examining him. He’s not just a little boy I can placate. He’s evidence.
Evidence of what? The question plagues me, but I attempt to stay focused. A few minutes later, he quiets. I pace the front yard. The grass tickles my feet. I tip my face up to a sky full of stars I can’t see and pray for a miracle.
“Bec?” Jake opens the door. “Can you come inside?”
I brace myself for the verdict. “So?” I shut the door behind me.
“Bec, I’m sorry, but I still maintain what I said before,” Jess says. “I really do think it’s Jackson.”
Jake stays quiet. They don’t believe me. “Now what?” My voice is resigned, even to my own ears.
“I can take you down to the precinct,” Jake says. “Toby is expecting us. And then we’ll handle the footprint with the hospital. We’ll need to take some statements from your friends as well.”
“How’d you get him to stop crying?” I ask.
“Swaddle,” Jess says.
“Jackson hates to be swaddled,” I say. “Hates it.”
“Do you need me to come to the station too?” I don’t know if Jess is directing that question to me or Jake.
“Yes, but not tonight,” Jake says. “I’ll call you if I need anything further. Thank you for your time.”
On the way out, Jess grabs my hand. I resist shaking her off. “Get some rest, okay? It’s all going to be fine.”
When she leaves, I bite back the millionth scream of the evening. “Should we go?”
“Hey, come here.” He wraps his arms around me, and I cling to him: his smell, the familiarity and strangeness of him, and the slim hope that he understands I’m telling the truth. He opens his mouth, probably to say something generic, like, “It’s all