Todos los capítulos de The Baby Clause: Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

The second location was smaller than the warehouse, a cramped, dusty office above what looked like an abandoned auto shop, one flickering fluorescent light overhead and a single, grimy window too high to reach. Sabrina had moved us the moment the sound of approaching sirens reached her, hustling me back into the car with an urgency that told me, even in my panic, that she'd anticipated this exact possibility, had a second location already chosen, a contingency built into whatever fractured plan she was operating from. That frightened me more than almost anything else. A woman improvising out of desperation was dangerous. A woman who'd planned this carefully enough to have a backup location was something else entirely. "Sit," she said, gesturing to an old metal folding chair in the corner, gun still steady in her other hand though her arm had started to tremble slightly, exhaustion or adrenaline or both wearing through wh

The door burst open with enough force to rattle the whole room, officers flooding in fast and coordinated, shouting instructions I could barely process through the roar of my own pulse."Police! Drop the weapon! Hands where we can see them!"Sabrina spun toward them, gun swinging wildly, panic overtaking whatever cold calculation had steadied her only moments before."Stay back," she said, voice cracking, gun trembling badly now in her grip. "Stay back, I mean it, I'll—""Put it down," the lead officer said, steady, careful, hands raised in the universal gesture of someone trying to de-escalate a situation teetering on the edge of catastrophe. "No one has to get hurt. Put the weapon down."I pressed myself back against the wall, hand cradling my stomach, heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat, watching Sabrina's face cycle through panic and defiance and something close to despair, the gun never quite lowering, never quite steadying either."Sabrina." My own voice, hoarse

Damian's POVConsciousness returned in pieces, fragmented and slow, the first sensation a dull, heavy ache radiating from somewhere near my ribs, the second an unfamiliar antiseptic smell that meant, before I'd even opened my eyes, that I was somewhere I hadn't chosen to be."Damian."Her voice. Brielle's voice, close and trembling and unmistakably real.I forced my eyes open, the room swimming into slow, blurred focus, and found her sitting in a wheelchair pulled close beside my bed, one hand gripping mine, the other resting protectively over her stomach, exhaustion carved deep into every line of her face."You're here," I managed, voice rough, barely above a whisper. "You're safe.""I'm safe," she said, tears spilling free immediately. "You absolute idiot, you got yourself shot.""Wasn't exactly the plan.""You weren't supposed to run in there.""Heard your voice," I said, the same explanation I remembered giving her before everything went dark, apparently still the only one that ma

I noticed the new security detail before Damian even mentioned it, three unfamiliar men in dark suits stationed around the bakery when I arrived for my first shift back since everything happened. They stood too straight, too obvious, scanning the street with a watchfulness that made ordinary customers glance twice on their way through the door, several regulars asking Rosa in hushed voices whether everything was all right."What is this," I asked Rosa, who was already behind the counter, looking faintly harried."Apparently we have a security team now," she said. "Full time. Damian arranged it yesterday. I assumed you knew."I didn't know. I found out the details that evening instead, once he'd finally come home from a day full of calls I'd assumed were work-related, only to discover he'd spent most of it interviewing private security firms."Three guards," I said, keeping my voice carefully even. "At the bakery. Permanently, apparently. Customers are asking Rosa if we're expecting tr

Three days at Rosa's apartment felt longer than three days had any right to feel, the lumpy couch and crooked bookshelf familiar in a way that used to feel comforting and now just felt like evidence of how far backward I'd traveled from the life I'd been building.I kept busy where I could. Sketching more bakery expansion ideas I didn't have the heart to actually work on. Reading three chapters of a novel Rosa recommended that I couldn't have summarized afterward if my life depended on it. Sitting through two entire birthing class videos on my laptop, alone this time, the empty space beside me on the couch a constant, quiet reminder of exactly what I was missing.I didn't call Damian. He didn't call me, either, though a single text arrived each morning, brief and careful, never pushing, never demanding anything beyond acknowledgment that he was still there, still waiting, still working on whatever he needed to work on before I was ready to hear from him properly.Good morning. No pres