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Chapter 112

Author: Author Ava
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-10-29 00:04:36

Camila's pov

Cora knew before I told her.

That's how it goes with children. You spend three weeks rehearsing a sentence in the mirror, deciding how to make it gentle and age-appropriate and not frightening, and she walks into the kitchen on Wednesday morning in one sock, looks at the saltines on my plate, and says, "Mama, is there a baby in there?"

Ruth dropped a spoon.

"Why would you think that?" I asked.

"Because you're sick every morning, and you don't drink your coffee, and you keep d
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    George's povPike didn't draw a weapon. That's what I remember most.He stood in the glare of his own headlights with his hands in his coat pockets and a mild look on his face, like a neighbor come to borrow a ladder. Behind him, four men got out of the other two cars. They weren't in a hurry either. One carried a long gun low against his leg. Another had something that looked like a bolt cutter."Mr. Wilton," Pike said. "Good evening. Mrs. Voss. Mr. Reyes. I'd say it's a nice night for a walk, but it's cold."Nobody answered. I had the red book in a canvas bag over my shoulder, and I felt its weight like a second heartbeat."Here's how this goes," Pike went on. "You hand me the bag. I say thank you. Everyone goes home, and nobody explains to the sheriff why four people were digging under a shed on private property. It's a very simple evening.""No," said Dana.She had the rifle up. I hadn't seen her move. She stood at the corner of the woodshed with the stock against her shoulder and

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    Camila's pov Cora knew before I told her. That's how it goes with children. You spend three weeks rehearsing a sentence in the mirror, deciding how to make it gentle and age-appropriate and not frightening, and she walks into the kitchen on Wednesday morning in one sock, looks at the saltines on my plate, and says, "Mama, is there a baby in there?" Ruth dropped a spoon. "Why would you think that?" I asked. "Because you're sick every morning, and you don't drink your coffee, and you keep doing this." She put a hand flat over her own stomach, very seriously, copying me exactly. "And Daddy George smiles at you like you're a present." I looked at Ruth. Ruth looked at the ceiling. "Come here," I said. She climbed into my lap. She's seven and a half and too big for it now, all elbows and knees, but she folded herself against me like she'd done it a thousand times. I put my chin on her hair. "You're right," I said. "There's a baby. It's very small, about the size of a grape. It'll

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    Darian's povI was in the car, on the way to see my mother, when the warden called.It was Wednesday, a little before two. Priya had cleared it Tuesday night. The protective custody paperwork had gone through, the district attorney had agreed to a cooperation meeting, and nobody could think of a reason to keep me out. I'd shaved. I'd put on a dark jacket. I'd practiced, in the mirror, how to say *Mother* without my voice shaking.My phone showed a number with a 914 area code. I almost let it ring."Mr. Baldore? This is Warden Patricia Lowe at Bedford Hills." The voice was brisk and very careful. "I'm sorry to call you directly. There's been an incident."I told the driver to pull over."Your mother was attacked in the laundry about forty minutes ago. A fellow inmate. She was stabbed three times. She's been airlifted to Westchester Medical, and she's in surgery." A pause. "I should tell you that it's serious. I don't want to say more than I know."The street outside the window blurred.

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