Chapter 6 - The List of BabiesI tore the nursery door open.
Nothing.
No one.
The window was locked.
The baby was still asleep.
I checked every inch of the room.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the crib.
A small envelope had been tucked beneath the mattress.
Emily started shaking before I even opened it.
Inside was a list.
Names.
Dates.
Hospital numbers.
Addresses.
More than forty children.
Some were newborns.
Some were toddlers.
Some were still unborn.
Beside several names was a symbol.
A red circle.
Beside others, a black cross.
Beside Ethan's name was neither.
It had a question mark.
“What does this mean?” I asked.
Emily shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“You said your father left a list.”
“I never saw the whole thing.”
“Where is the rest?”
“They took it.”
“Who?”
She didn't answer.
I pointed at Ethan's name.
“What does the question mark mean?”
Emily whispered:
“They haven't decided yet.”
“Decided what?”
She looked at our son.
“Whether he lives.”
I felt something inside me snap.
We were calling the police.
No more secrets.
No more protecting people.
No more believing my mother could explain everything.
I grabbed my phone.
It rang before I could dial.
Linda.
I answered.
“What?”
Her voice was almost a whisper.
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
“Is Emily there?”
“Yes.”
“Then listen carefully.”
I heard panic in her voice.
“Leave the house.”
I stared at Emily.
“Why?”
“Because they're coming.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You always know.”
A pause.
Then:
“I was wrong.”
“About what?”
“About the camera.”
My jaw tightened.
“What about it?”
“I didn't put it there.”
Emily covered her mouth.
“What?”
Linda's voice cracked.
“The camera wasn't installed to watch Emily.”
My heart stopped.
“Then who?”
“You.”
I looked around the room.
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone has been studying you.”
“Why?”
“Because you inherited something from your father.”
“What?”
Linda hesitated.
Then said:
“A key.”
I heard a vehicle outside.
Headlights swept across the wall.
Linda gasped.
“They found you.”
The line went dead.
I grabbed Emily's hand.
We ran toward the front door.
A black SUV was parked across the street.
Another vehicle stopped behind it.
Three men stepped out.
They weren't police.
They wore dark jackets.
One of them looked directly at our house.
Then he pointed.
I shut the curtains.
“Back door.”
We ran.
But before I opened it, I heard glass shatter upstairs.
Someone was already inside.
Emily screamed.
May you like
I grabbed our son.
And then we heard footsteps running down the stairs.
