Chương 1
"Mark Miller’s shoe struck the wheelbarrow before anyone in the hospital lobby understood why a seven-year-old girl was pushing two newborn babies through the automatic doors.
The front wheel snapped sideways with a metallic crack. One handle jerked out of Sophie’s grip. The rusty basin tilted toward the polished floor, cream blankets sliding beneath two impossibly small shapes, and for half a second Sophie saw the pink cap on her sister’s head disappear behind the rim.
Dr. Daniel Carter caught the metal frame before it fell.
His shoulder took most of the weight. His stethoscope swung forward and slapped against his white coat as he forced the wheelbarrow upright. One of the babies made a thin, hoarse sound from inside the blankets.
Sophie grabbed the handle again with both hands.
Mark stood just beyond the glass doors, chest heaving beneath his charcoal jacket.
“DON’T TOUCH THOSE BABIES—THEY WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO GET HERE!”
His voice carried through the reception area.
Nobody moved for perhaps one second.
Then everybody did.
Nurse Claire Bennett came around the reception desk so quickly that her ID badge struck her lavender scrub top. A receptionist reached beneath the counter for the security button. Two medical staff members who had been carrying coffee stopped in the corridor and turned back.
Daniel kept one hand on the wheelbarrow.
His other came up between Mark and the children.
“Stay where you are.”
He did not shout.
He did not need to.
Mark’s eyes moved past him toward Sophie.
That was what changed her face.
Until then she had looked exhausted more than frightened. Her long brown hair had partly escaped the dusty-pink bow tied behind her head. Mud dried in irregular streaks across the front of her dress and up one sleeve. Her pink sneakers were nearly brown. Both hands were red around the knuckles from gripping the wheelbarrow handles.
Now her mouth opened slightly.
Recognition settled over the fear.
“He’s why Mommy won’t wake up.”
Daniel looked at Mark.
Something in his expression closed.
Claire was already peeling back the cream blankets.
“Easy,” she murmured, though nobody seemed to know whether she meant the girl or the babies.
She pressed two gloved fingers to the newborn boy’s chest, then checked the girl. She touched their cheeks, their necks, the skin beneath the blankets.
“Daniel.”
He did not turn.
“They’re freezing.”
“Call 911. Now.”
The receptionist had the phone in her hand before he finished the sentence.
Mark took a step backward.
Not a dramatic one. Barely six inches.
Sophie saw it.
She released one wheelbarrow handle and shoved trembling fingers into the pocket of her muddy dress. For a moment she could not pull out whatever she was reaching for. The fabric kept catching against her knuckles.
Then she produced a crumpled hospital bracelet.
“Mom said if he found us, run.”
Daniel’s attention flicked to the bracelet.
Mark went completely still.
Claire gathered the baby girl inside the pink blanket and lifted her carefully from the wheelbarrow.
Daniel crouched beside Sophie.
His knees cracked quietly.
“Can you show us where your mom is?”
Sophie turned toward the doors she had just come through.
Outside, bright afternoon light flashed against windshields in the ambulance lane. The automatic doors remained open because Mark was standing too close to the sensor.
Her eyes filled, but no tears fell.
“Yes,” she whispered. “But we have to get there before he does.”
Behind Daniel, somebody said, “Security’s coming.”
Mark looked toward the parking lot.
Daniel saw him calculate.
“Don’t,” he said.
Mark stopped.
It was the first sensible thing he had done since entering the building.
The receptionist was speaking rapidly into the phone. Claire carried the little girl toward a treatment bay while another nurse took the baby boy from the wheelbarrow. The cream blanket lifted with him, exposing the basin underneath.
There was mud there.
Not a little dirt from a child’s shoes. Thick, dark mud streaked along the bottom and dried in ridges against the rust.
Daniel looked at Sophie’s hands.
Her palms were blistered.
“How far did you push them?”
She stared at him without answering.
Mark made a sound that might have been a laugh if there had been anything amused in it.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
Sophie’s shoulders jerked.
Daniel stood.
“Stop talking to her.”
“I’m her father.”
“Then stop frightening her.”
“You don’t know anything about us.”
“That’s correct.”
The answer seemed to surprise Mark.
Daniel did not add anything.
A hospital security officer arrived from the hallway, followed by a second. One was a broad man Daniel knew as Luis. The other was a woman he had seen on night shifts but never spoken to.
Luis stopped several feet from Mark.
“Sir, I need you to step away from the doors.”
“I’m leaving.”
“No.”
Mark looked at Daniel again.
For the first time, anger was not the clearest thing on his face.
Fear was.
That stayed with Daniel.
People who were only angry usually found another direction for it. They cursed. They blamed. They demanded names.
Mark kept watching the phone in the receptionist’s hand.
Sophie tugged Daniel’s coat sleeve.
“I know the building.”
He looked down.
“What building?”
“Mommy’s.”
“Can you tell me the address?”
Her lips moved.
Nothing came out.
Daniel glanced toward the treatment bay where Claire had disappeared with the newborns, then toward the security officers.
He crouched again, slower this time.
“What color is the building?”
“Brick.”
“That’s good. What’s near it?”
Sophie swallowed.
“The laundromat with the broken red sign.”
The receptionist, still on the phone, began writing.
“And there’s a store where Mr. Baines gives me orange candy, but Mommy says I’m not supposed to take candy from people.”
“Okay.”
“He’s not a stranger.”
“Okay.”
“He’s really old.”
Daniel almost smiled despite himself.
“What street?”
Sophie frowned at the floor.
“Marion.”
The receptionist repeated it into the phone.
“Marion Avenue?”
Sophie nodded.
“What number?”
“I don’t know.”
May you like
Mark spoke from across the lobby.
“Two-seventeen.”
