Chapter 7
Naomi noticed how Micah slowed beside her as they reached the mother-baby unit.
“You okay?” he murmured. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I can go in and there and—”
“I’m fine.” She nodded, even though the answer felt like a lie. “It’s just nerves.”
They stopped outside a room near the end of the hall. Through the narrow window in the door, Naomi saw Sissy sitting up in the hospital bed, her face blotchy and swollen, her arms curled protectively around a tiny bundle.
Two men in dark jackets stood near the foot of the bed.
Feds.
Micah’s jaw visibly tightened. “Let me talk to them first.”
Naomi nodded as Micah stepped inside. She lingered in the doorway, waiting for permission to enter.
Micah talked to the feds before nodding to Naomi.
Gathering herself, she stepped inside. Micah and the feds gravitated toward the door, probably to give them some privacy.
Sissy looked up the moment Naomi entered, eyes wild with fear. Then she dropped her gaze back to the baby as if afraid to look away for too long.
“Oh, thank goodness, you’re here,” Sissy whispered. “You actually came.”
Naomi crossed the room slowly, her heart aching at the sight of the newborn. The infant was so small. So pink and wrinkled and utterly unaware of the chaos waiting just beyond the hospital walls.
And Sissy . . . even after all her betrayal, the woman still seemed so broken and naive with her long, blonde curls and petite features. Even pregnant, the woman couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred thirty-five pounds.
But she’d been a hundred thirty-five pounds of vindictiveness, Naomi reminded herself.
“I didn’t know who else to call. I didn’t.” Sissy’s voice cracked. “They’re taking her, Naomi. They said I can’t keep her.”
Naomi sat carefully on the edge of the chair beside the bed. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Sissy’s eyes darted toward the doorway then back to Naomi. “What did you decide? Please. Please, Naomi. I won’t ask you to keep her forever. I swear. I just—I can’t let her go into foster care. I can’t.”
Naomi glanced at the child, and her throat tightened.
The baby looked so innocent . . .
Her features were petite like Sissy’s. But she had thick black hair—just like her dad.
Could Naomi really look at this reminder of Richard every day?
“Richard doesn’t know she was born,” Sissy rushed on as if reading her mind. “I’m not going to tell him. I didn’t even tell the social worker who the father was. I said I didn’t know.”
Naomi flinched at Richard’s name, but she kept her expression steady. “I thought you loved him.”
“I do . . . but I have to keep my baby safe. That means he can’t know—for now, at least. Because if he knows, his family knows. They’ll want her. They’re the ones I don’t trust.”
“I see.” She let that information sink in.
“I’ll have her back before he ever finds out,” Sissy continued. “I promise.”
“You can’t know that.”
Sissy’s lips trembled. “He won’t. I won’t let him.”
“Richard has eyes and ears everywhere.”
“But none of them should know I’m here.”
Naomi wasn’t sure it was that easy.
She looked at the baby again. At the tiny fist curled against Sissy’s chest. At the faint flutter of breath.
“Did you name her?” Naomi asked, knowing she needed some space from Sissy’s question.
“Not yet. I . . . I thought I knew. I thought she was going to be Emma. But now I’m not so sure. She doesn’t seem like an Emma.”
Silence stretched for a moment.
Naomi cleared her throat before asking, “Listen, Sissy. I need to understand exactly what you want and what your expectations are. This situation isn’t simple.”
“I know.” Sissy swallowed hard. “But you’re the only one I trust. All I care about right now is knowing that my baby will be safe and loved. Nothing else matters. I made mistakes, Naomi. A lot of mistakes. But my daughter shouldn’t be punished for what I did.”
“Are you guilty of the things you’re being accused of?”
Her eyes widened. “No! Not those things. I’ve made other mistakes. I’ve associated with people I shouldn’t have associated with. But I don’t know anything about this fraud I’m being accused of.”
Naomi wondered if that was the truth. She had her doubts.
The words settled heavily between them.
From the corner of her vision, Naomi saw Micah and the federal agents standing just outside the door. One of them glanced into the room, then nodded at Micah.
What were they saying? What were they deciding?
A moment later, Micah stepped inside. “Naomi, can I talk to you a minute?”
Her heart lurched, but she nodded and rose. She cast one last look at the baby before following him into the hallway.
The door clicked shut behind them.
The two agents joined them—one a taller man named Langston and the other a shorter and stockier man named Brixon.
Micah went over what he’d already explained in the SUV—emergency placement, temporary custody, oversight. The federal agents confirmed the details with composed professionalism that made the whole thing feel frighteningly real.
As they talked, a prickling sensation teased the skin at the back of Naomi’s neck.
She glanced down the hallway.
She only saw pale walls, a nurse disappearing into a room, and the glow of a vending machine at the far end.
Then, just before she looked away, movement caught her eye.
A figure stood near the corner.
Whoever it was quickly stepped back out of sight.
Her breath hitched.
Micah followed her gaze. “What is it?”
“I thought I saw someone. Someone watching.”
“Did you recognize this person?” Brixon asked.
She shook her head. “No. I only got a glimpse.”
Was it Travis? Someone tied to Richard?
Micah’s expression hardened. “I’ll have security check the cameras.”
“I’ll see if I can catch him.” Brixon hurried down the hall.
But Naomi’s gut told her he wouldn’t find anyone.
At the thought, unease coiled tight in her chest.