Chapter 1

“Push, Margaret! One more time!” I screamed and gripped the nurse’s hand so hard my fingers hurt. One more push. One more moment. Then I would finally meet my baby.

“She’s coming,” the nurse said.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed with everything I had left. Then a sharp cry escaped me as the pressure suddenly disappeared.

For one breathless second, I smiled. “She’s here,” I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks. “My baby is here."

But the room went silent, My smile fading when I realized she wasn't crying. Why isn't she crying? “Is she okay?” I asked, trying to lift myself from the bed. “Please, someone tell me she’s okay.”

Nobody answered. I looked toward the foot of the bed. Dr. Harrison stood there with my baby in his arms, wrapped tightly in a white towel. He wasn't smiling. Neither was the nurse beside him. My heart began pounding.

“Doctor?” He looked at me. Something about his expression made fear crawl through my chest.

“Where is her cry?” I asked. “Why isn't she crying?”

Dr. Harrison lowered his eyes. “Margaret…”

“No.” I shook my head, don't say my name like that"

“I’m sorry.” Dr Harrison said

My heart stopped. “What?”

“Her heartbeat dropped during the final stage of labor. There was a cord complication. We tried everything we could, but…”

He paused.

My entire body went cold. “But what?”

“Your baby didn't survive.”

For a moment, I couldn't understand the words. Then I screamed. I tried to sit up, but pain ripped through my body. “No, you're lying! She was moving! I felt her moving!”

Dr. Harrison caught my shoulder and pushed me gently back against the mattress. “Margaret, you need to calm down.”

“Let me see her!” My eyes locked on the tiny baby in the nurse's arms. “Please,” I begged. Just let me hold her. Just once. Let me see my daughter.”

The nurse turned away.

“Please!” I screamed.

Nobody listened.

“Where are you taking her?” I asked

The nurse ignored me, carrying my baby toward the double doors. I fought against the doctor's hand. “Bring her back!”

“She’s gone, Margaret.” He said

“No!” My voice shattered. “She can't be gone. She's all I have.”

And she was.

Three months earlier, I had lost Marcus. My fiancé. My high school sweetheart. The man who had promised to grow old with me. A drunk driver had taken him from me in a rainy car crash, leaving me alone with our unborn daughter.

That baby had become the only reason I kept going. She was the last piece of Marcus I had left. And now she was gone too.

“Please,” I whispered, tears pouring down my face. “I just want my baby.”

Dr. Harrison looked at me for a long moment. Then he nodded toward the nurse. Something cold entered my IV.

“What are you—” My words became slurred. The room began spinning. “Wait…” I fought to keep my eyes open. I needed to see my daughter. I needed to hold her. But darkness swallowed me before I could.

When I woke up, the crib beside my bed was empty. My daughter was gone. And I believed that was the worst thing that could ever happen to me.

I was wrong.

The months that followed barely felt like living. I stopped answering calls. I stopped going outside. Some days, I couldn't even convince myself to get out of bed. Marcus was gone. My daughter was gone. And the tiny crib we'd built together sat untouched in the corner of my apartment. People told me time would heal me. It didn't, It only taught me how to hide the pain.

Six years passed. I learned how to smile when I needed to. I learned how to work when I needed money. I learned how to survive. But somewhere inside me, I was still that woman screaming in a hospital bed, begging someone to give her back her baby. I thought my daughter had died six years ago. I thought I'd buried the only part of Marcus I had left. I didn't know the truth.

My daughter had never died. She had been alive the entire time. And while I was drowning in grief, Dr. Harrison had walked through the hospital's back exit carrying a newborn baby in his arms, exchanging my living, breathing daughter for a briefcase full of money.