Chapter 4
Beatrice lunged.
“No!”
Adam shoved her arm away and unlocked the padlock.
Sophia struggled to stand.
“Please hurry.”
Adam ripped the lock free.
Then opened the washer door.
He stopped.
There were no clothes inside.
No spinning drum.
The back of the machine had been removed.
Beyond it was darkness.
A hidden opening ran through the wall behind the laundry room.
And inside that narrow space was a clear plastic infant bassinet.
Noah lay inside.
Wrapped in a blue blanket.
His tiny face was red from crying.
Adam made a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a shout.
“My God.”
He reached through the empty drum.
The space was barely large enough.
His hands found the bassinet.
He pulled it toward him.
Noah whimpered.
Adam lifted the newborn carefully into his arms.
For several seconds he could do nothing except stare down at his son.
Alive.
Breathing.
Cold.
But alive.
Sophia staggered into the room.
The moment she saw Noah, her knees nearly gave out.
Adam caught her with one arm.
“My baby.”
She reached for him.
Adam transferred Noah gently into her arms.
Sophia pressed the infant against her chest.
She kissed his forehead again and again.
“I’m sorry.”
Adam looked at his mother.
Beatrice stood against the wall.
Not crying.
Not apologizing.
Watching.
“Why?”
She said nothing.
“Why was my son inside a wall?”
Beatrice's jaw tightened.
“That baby is not your son.”
Sophia froze.
Adam turned slowly.
“What did you say?”
Beatrice pointed toward Noah.
“That child is not a Langford.”
Sophia stared at her.
“You’re insane.”
“No.”
Beatrice looked at Adam.
“She lied to you.”
Adam’s face hardened.
“About what?”
“About everything.”
Sophia clutched Noah tighter.
“Adam, don’t listen to her.”
May you like
Beatrice stepped closer.
“You want to know why she came back from the hospital eight months pregnant and carrying a newborn?”
