All the waiting, the questions, the protocol. When it’s a human life, shouldn’t those types of rules go out the window?
Not when they think you’re lying.
Again, the truth digs in its heels. That’s why there’s no Amber Alert. Because they don’t believe there’s a crime. Outside, the baby falls asleep on my chest. I sing him a lullaby and rub his back.
“Bec.” After another few endless minutes, Jake’s hand finds my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, but you have to leave him here. Just overnight.”
“Who says?”
“The state.”
“No. He’s not going into some crazy system. I’ll never get him back again. That’s not happening.”
I can tell he’s calculating odds in his head, but so am I. “So what do you want to do?” He knows what I’m thinking by the way I look at him. “Bec…”
I exhale and let go of all this police nonsense. “I have you, right? I mean, as long as you can help me. I just can’t…” I motion to the police station. “I can’t hand him over. Like you said, if we can just figure out who he is, then I can find his parents. It could lead us to Jackson.” I blink up at him, concocting a crystal-clear image in my head. “Even if you don’t one hundred percent believe me, what if I’m right? Think about that, Jake. What if I’m right?” I tug on his sleeve like a child. “I have to do this. I can’t waste any more time.”
“Dammit, Rebecca.” Finally, he speaks, and I know I’ve got him. I know he’ll help. “You want to keep this baby for the night, then you’re going to have to lie. You’re going to have to say you were confused. You’re basically going to have to hang yourself.”
I nod. “I don’t care.” But I know the ramifications. I know what it will seem like to the community. But this is about more than the community. This is about getting Jackson back above all else—and the police not taking this baby away too.
“You realize Toby will see right through this,” he adds.
“But he can’t legally take him, right? If I’m claiming he’s mine?”
“No, not legally.” He slaps his palm against the automatic door button. “Come on, Dead Man Walking. Let’s get you inside.”
The door stalls then cranks open. On the walk to Toby’s office, I rewrite my story. I’m a widow. I’m confused. I must have been mistaken.
“Toby?” Jake knocks on the door. “Rebecca has something she wants to say.”
I open my mouth, but I’m not sure where to start. Do I just come right out and say it? I refrain from drumming my fingers on the desk. Air-conditioning pours in cold, recycled air from ceiling vents. The mood shifts in the room while he waits.
I channel every bit of high school drama I can remember and rearrange my face to a look of sheer remorse. “I made a mistake.” A stab of fear inserts itself right between my ribs. I lick my lips, swallow. I lightly touch the baby. “This is Jackson.” The lie twists deeper. My voice is robotic, flat. “I think…” I look to Jake, this new plan concocted on the fly. “I think I just wanted attention. I just wanted to…”
“Wait.” Toby’s voice is tinged with skepticism. “Are you trying to say your son isn’t missing now?”
No, no, no. Don’t say it! My conscience rebels against my plan, but I close my eyes and nod. “I made a mistake.”
Officer Toby is quiet, and for a panicked moment, I wonder if they’re going to take the baby anyway. Lock me up for lying to authorities. He clears his throat. “Say no more.” I imagine Toby lifting his hand. Instead of challenging me, relief replaces the skepticism. Relief to be through with this nonsense. Relief to go back to important matters that aren’t make-believe. Relief to alert the chief that it’s all been handled. “Look, none of us can imagine all that you’ve been through,” Toby continues. “But I do think you should have a psych evaluation to make sure everything’s good,” he adds.
“Already on it. I’m taking her now.” Jake speaks up before I can make an indignant retort. “I’m handling it from here. She’ll get the help she needs. Toby.” Fists pumping in a firm handshake signals the meeting is over.
We turn to leave, but Toby stops me. “I meant what I said when we first met. Let me know if you need anything.”