Chapter 1 - The Flowerpot
The kitchen smelled like wet dirt and dish soap.
My mouth tasted metallic, and every time I swallowed, my split lip burned.
Sophie had Lily pressed against her chest, one hand supporting the baby’s head while the other shook so badly she could barely pull the muddy blanket away.
Mom was outside.
She had already hit the glass twice.
“Open the door.”
Sophie ignored her.
I lifted the two plastic bracelets from the flowerpot.
“Look at this.”
Sophie glanced down.
Then stopped rocking Lily.
The first bracelet was familiar.
BABY GIRL TURNER.
SOPHIE TURNER.
The date beneath it was Lily’s birthday.
July 14.
Sophie had saved it after the delivery. I remembered her showing it to me when she came home from St. Anne’s Medical Center. She said it was the first thing that had ever identified Lily as hers.
But the second bracelet said:
BABY GIRL ELLISON.
NATALIE ELLISON.
July 14.
Same hospital.
Same date.
Different identification number.
“That’s impossible,” Sophie whispered.
Mom struck the glass again.
“Put those back!”
Sophie’s head snapped toward her.
“Back where?”
“The flowerpot.”
That answer changed everything.
Mom had not stumbled across the bracelets five minutes earlier.
She knew exactly where they had been.
I put them on the counter beside the shattered remains of the stone fruit bowl.
Blood from Mom’s hairline had dried in a thin line along her temple. Mud covered one cheek. One gardening glove was still on her hand.
The other lay beside the sink.
Sophie stared through the glass.
“Why did you have my daughter’s bracelet?”
“I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
“I wasn’t hurting her.”
“You put my baby in a sink.”
“I was trying to clean her.”
“With garden soil all over her?”
Mom looked toward the flowerpot instead of answering.
I noticed.
So did Sophie.
Lily’s crying had softened into little exhausted sounds.
Sophie looked down at her daughter, then back at Mom.
“Where did the second bracelet come from?”
Mom’s voice dropped.
“I found it when you were discharged.”
“Eight weeks ago?”
Silence.
“You knew about this for eight weeks?”
“I didn’t know what it meant.”
“Then why hide it?”
“I needed time.”
“For what?”
“To figure out whether it mattered.”
Sophie laughed once.
There was nothing amused in it.
“Another newborn’s hospital bracelet was mixed in with my daughter’s things, and you decided whether that mattered?”
“I thought it was a printing mistake.”
“Then why bury it?”
Mom pressed both hands against the glass.
“Because someone told me to stop asking questions.”
The room changed.
I stepped closer.
“Who?”
Mom shook her head.
“No.”
Sophie’s eyes narrowed.
“You hit Rachel. You grabbed for Lily. You buried hospital evidence in my house. You are done deciding what we know.”
“I was protecting you.”
“From what?”
Mom looked at Lily.
That frightened me more than anything she had said.
“Mom,” I whispered.
She closed her eyes.
Then she said, “The hospital called me before you brought Lily home.”
Sophie went perfectly still.
“What hospital call?”
“I was already here. You were still waiting for discharge.”
“You told me you came ahead to put groceries away.”
“I did.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Mom’s voice broke.
“A man from St. Anne’s called. He said there had been an identification problem during the night.”
Sophie tightened her grip on Lily.
“What kind of problem?”
“He said two bracelet sets had been printed from the wrong workstation.”
“Whose?”
Mom looked at the band in my hand.
“The Ellison baby’s.”
The name suddenly felt heavier.
Sophie whispered, “Was Lily switched?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“They told me she wasn’t.”
“Who is they?”
“The hospital.”
Sophie stared at her.
“And you believed them?”
“I wanted to.”
The answer was too honest.
That was what scared me.
I held up the second band.
“Why was this in Sophie’s belongings?”
Mom swallowed.
“I found both bracelets inside the side pocket of the discharge bag when I got home.”
“Both?”
“Yes.”
“Lily wasn’t wearing hers?”
“She had another band on.”
Sophie blinked.
“A replacement?”
Mom nodded.
“They had reprinted it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Sophie moved toward the door.
I caught her arm.
“Don’t.”
“She is going to tell me everything.”
“Call the police first.”
Mom’s face changed.
“No police.”
There it was.
Not embarrassment.
Fear.
Sophie saw it.
“Why not?”
“Because they’ll take the bracelets.”
“That’s the point.”
“No. You don’t understand.”
Mom backed away from the glass.
“I signed something.”
Sophie’s voice turned low.
“What did you sign?”
Mom said nothing.
“Mom.”
“I thought it was a confidentiality form.”
“How much did they pay you?”
My question came before I could stop it.
Mom stared at me.
Sophie slowly turned toward her.
“Pay you?”
Mom’s silence answered.
“How much?” Sophie asked.
“I didn’t take it for myself.”
“How much?”
“Seventy-five thousand dollars.”
The kitchen became silent except for Lily’s breathing.
Sophie looked as if someone had slapped her.
“You took seventy-five thousand dollars from the hospital and said nothing to me?”
“They said there was no danger to Lily.”
“And you believed a hospital that was paying you not to talk?”
“They said it was a privacy settlement.”
I looked at the two bracelets.
“No.”
Mom frowned.
“What?”
“They paid you because they were afraid of something.”
Outside, a car door slammed.
Mom turned toward the driveway.
For a moment I thought she might run.
Then Sophie pulled out her phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“The police.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“Sophie, listen to me.”
“No.”
Mom pounded once on the glass.
“You don’t know what happened that night.”
Sophie stopped dialing.
Neither of us spoke.
Mom looked at Lily.
Her face had gone gray.
Then she said the sentence that made me forget the pain in my mouth.
May you like
“Neither do they.”
Continue to the next chapter: The police take the bracelets into evidence while Linda finally explains why St. Anne’s paid her $75,000 before Sophie and Lily ever reached home.
