“I’m not here for your respect, either. I’m here because there’s a baby in this house who’s been screaming in pain for two months, and no one knows why. So you can either let me do my job, or I can walk out that door right now and you can find someone else to bully.”
Silence. Nicholas stared at her, but his expression changed. The icy threat was gone.
In its place was something like curiosity. Before he could speak, the door swung open. Katherine walked in, her eyes red and swollen from crying.
She was still in her wrinkled robe, her hair a mess—a far cry from the polished woman she used to be. “Please,” Katherine said, her voice trembling. She went straight to Sarah, ignoring her husband.
“I heard you were different. I don’t care how. Just save my baby.”
To Sarah’s shock, Katherine reached out and grabbed her hands, her grip desperate. The former fashion icon was practically pleading with a city nurse. Sarah gently squeezed her hands.
“Please, take a breath,” Sarah said softly. “I’ll do everything I can. I promise.”
“But I have one condition.” Nicholas stepped forward. His voice was still cold, but the edge was gone.
“Name it.” Sarah looked at him, then back at Katherine. “I need to be alone with Mikey.”
“No interference. No cameras. No one hovering outside the door. I need to observe him without any pressure. Just me and the baby.”
Nicholas and Katherine exchanged a look. After a silent moment, Nicholas gave a short nod. “You have one hour.”
Sarah nodded back and left the study. She didn’t see Nicholas watching her go. For the first time in his life, Nicholas Bennett, a man who owned half the city, had been stood up to by someone he couldn’t buy.
Steven led Sarah to Mikey’s nursery on the second floor and then quietly withdrew. The door closed, and the sound of the baby’s crying hit Sarah like a physical wave. It wasn’t a normal cry.
It was a raw, agonizing sound, as if the child was being tortured and had no way to fight back. Sarah walked over to the ornate rosewood crib. Mikey was lying there.
His skin was flushed, almost like a mild burn. His tiny body was curled up, his face contorted in pain, and his little fists were clenched tight. On a nearby table sat a thick stack of medical records—probably three hundred pages of tests and notes from the world’s top doctors.
Sarah didn’t touch them. She’d seen too many cases where doctors looked at the paperwork and forgot to look at the patient. She wasn’t going to make that mistake.
Instead, she just watched. She leaned over the crib and gently touched Mikey’s arm. He flinched, and his scream became sharper, more frantic.
But when Sarah slowly picked him up and held him against her scrubs, something strange happened. The crying didn’t stop, but it lessened. Just enough for Sarah to notice.
She laid him back down. The crying immediately intensified, as if his skin had touched acid. Sarah picked him up again.
The crying eased. She laid him down. It got worse.
She did this three times. The result was always the same. Sarah stood there, holding Mikey, her mind racing.
The problem wasn’t the baby. The problem was the crib. Or something inside it.
She placed Mikey in a soft armchair nearby, using a pillow to keep him secure. He was still crying, but not with the same fury as when he was in the crib. Sarah turned to the crib and began checking everything, piece by piece.
The wood was fine. She ran her fingers over the surface. Nothing unusual.
The silk blanket. She smelled it. Checked the texture. Soft. No strange odors. Normal.
The baby’s clothes. High-quality organic cotton, washed in the gentlest detergent money could buy. Normal.
Then Sarah stopped. Tucked into the corner of the crib was a small, decorative ivory pillow. She picked it up and immediately felt that something was off.
The fabric felt different from the rest of the bedding. It was smoother, shinier, and had a small logo embroidered in the corner: “Elysian Silks.” Sarah had never heard of the brand, but she knew one thing for sure.
This pillow didn’t belong. It didn’t match the set, as if someone had slipped it in later. She brought the pillow close to Mikey, and his crying instantly spiked.
She moved it away. He settled slightly. Closer—louder. Further—quieter.
Her heart started pounding. She had found something. There was a soft knock, and Katherine walked in.
Her face was haggard. “Is everything okay? I thought I heard him quiet down for a second…” Sarah turned around, holding the pillow.
“Katherine, where did this pillow come from?” Katherine looked at it, her tired eyes struggling to focus. She slowly shook her head…
Comments are closed.