Chapter 9 - SOPHIE
Sophie was born at 10:37 p.m.
Four pounds, eleven ounces.
Tiny.
Angry.
Beautiful.
Her first cry broke me in half.
I sobbed so hard the anesthesiologist had to remind me to breathe.
“She’s okay?” I kept asking.
“She’s breathing.”
“Can I see her?”
A nurse held her near my face for three seconds.
That was all I got.
I kissed the side of her tiny forehead.
Then the NICU team carried her away.
I spent the next hour in recovery repeating the same sentence.
“Do not let Ethan see her.”
The hospital locked down my visitor list.
Security stationed someone outside the NICU.
Police issued a warrant for Ethan.
His phone had gone dark near Worcester.
His car was found abandoned at a commuter lot.
Margaret was arrested at her home.
She asked for an attorney and said nothing.
By sunrise, I was awake enough to visit Sophie.
She lay inside an incubator with a tiny knitted hat covering her head.
I slipped one finger through the opening.
Her hand closed around it.
I whispered, “I’m sorry.”
A nurse beside me said softly, “You got her here.”
No.
I had failed to see the danger sooner.
But I would not fail again.
At 7:30 a.m., Ramirez came into the NICU waiting area.
“We found Ethan’s car.”
“I heard.”
“There was blood inside.”
My stomach tightened.
“His?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Do you think Margaret hurt him?”
“We’re considering everything.”
Then she showed me a photograph taken from the abandoned vehicle.
A baby car seat sat in the trunk.
Still boxed.
Beside it was a diaper bag.
Bottles.
Formula.
Blankets.
A passport application with Sophie’s expected name.
And two airline tickets to Lisbon.
Departure date:
Three days after my due date.
Passenger one: Ethan Hale.
Passenger two:
Sophie Hale.
There was no ticket for me.
“He planned to take her,” I whispered.
Ramirez nodded.
“It appears that way.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Ramirez told me to answer on speaker.
I did.
For several seconds, nothing.
Then Ethan whispered:
“Claire.”
My entire body went cold.
“Where are you?”
“I need you to listen.”
“No.”
“Mom lied to me.”
I stared at Ramirez.
“About what?”
“Everything.”
“You nodded, Ethan.”
Silence.
“I saw you.”
“I know.”
“You watched her push me.”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
I felt my face go numb.
“How was it supposed to happen?”
He started crying.
I had heard Ethan cry only once before.
At our wedding.
“I was supposed to stop her before you hit the bottom.”
My stomach turned.
“What?”
“She was supposed to scare you.”
“You nodded.”
“To tell her I was ready.”
“Ready for what?”
His voice cracked.
“To catch you.”
I almost laughed.
“You planned to push your pregnant wife down a staircase and catch her?”
“It was supposed to look like you lost control.”
“And then what?”
“We’d get you evaluated.”
“And take Sophie?”
“No.”
The lie came too quickly.
Then a sound came through the phone.
A train horn.
Ramirez immediately began writing.
Ethan whispered:
“There’s something else you don’t know.”
“What?”
“Mom wasn’t trying to get control of the trust for me.”
He breathed.
“She was trying to get it for herself.”
May you like
Then the line cut out.
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