Chapter 36
The next morning, Naomi stood in front of the mirror, pulling her hair back into a ponytail for the third time.
She lowered her hands, stared at her reflection, and forced herself to breathe.
You can do this.
Behind her, Grace lay in the bassinet, awake and content, watching the mobile spin slowly above her head. She made small cooing sounds, completely unaware that in less than an hour, she’d be in a jail.
Seeing her mother through a pane of glass.
Naomi’s stomach twisted.
Now, standing here in the early morning light with her nerves frayed and her chest tight, she wondered if she’d made the right choice by agreeing to do this.
She thought about Good Boy, about how empty the house felt without him.
She thought about how all this was leaving her feeling wrecked.
She liked playing it safe. It was why she’d picked a job in finance because she liked dealing with the expected.
Now she’d been thrown into a situation totally outside her comfort zone.
Maybe God was trying to stretch her, to make her grow. But why did growth have to be so painful?
Speaking of which . . . after her quick memory last night, she’d texted Gio and asked him if anything happened that day at work before her attack.
He’d quickly typed back and said, no. Then he’d asked why.
She’d explained that she thought some of her memories were coming back. He’d typed back, That must be a relief.
She’d put her phone away before he could continue the conversation anymore. She didn’t want him to take the opportunity to ask her again if he could see her.
She pulled her hair back one more time, secured it with an elastic, and crossed the room to the bassinet. “Hey, sweet girl.”
Grace’s eyes seemed to find hers, and her mouth curved into something that might have been a smile. Or gas. Naomi wasn’t sure.
But it softened something in her chest anyway.
“We’re going to see your mama today,” Naomi said. “She’s going to be so happy to see you.”
Grace kicked her legs.
Naomi reached down and brushed her fingers over the baby’s soft cheek. “You’re so loved. You know that? So, so loved.”
The sound of a vehicle pulling up to the house drew her attention toward the window.
Micah was right on time.
Relief flooded through her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d anticipated his arrival until he was here.
She stood and moved to the window, watching as he climbed out of his SUV and started toward the house.
Just seeing him made her feel like she could breathe again.
You can do this, she told herself again. You just have to get through this.
She turned back to Grace. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you ready.”
Naomi lifted Grace from the bassinet and changed her diaper before dressing her in a soft pink onesie and a knit hat her mom had made. The baby squirmed, uncooperative, and Naomi had to work to keep her still long enough to snap the onesie closed.
A few minutes later, Micah arrived. Her mom had let him in.
His eyes found hers immediately, and something in his expression shifted—concern, maybe. Or understanding. “You ready?”
Naomi looked down at Grace, then back at him. “As ready as I’m going to be.”
He crossed the room and picked up the diaper bag. “I’ll get this. You get her.”
Naomi nodded and lifted Grace into her arms. The baby settled against her chest, warm and solid, and Naomi held her a little tighter than necessary.
You can do this, she told herself one more time.
This time, she almost believed it.
Micah kept his eyes on the road and his hands steady on the wheel, but his attention was split.
Half of it was on the route—the curves, the traffic, the mirrors. Watching for anything out of place. Any vehicle that followed too long. Any sign that someone had decided today was the day to make a move.
The other half was on Naomi.
She sat in the back seat beside Grace’s car seat, her hand resting on the edge of the carrier like she couldn’t quite let go.
Her face was turned toward the window, but he saw her reflection in the glass.
He noticed the tightness around her mouth and the way her shoulders stayed rigid no matter how much the SUV swayed on the curves.
She was anxious.
He didn’t blame her.
“Micah?” Her voice broke the silence, quiet and uncertain.
He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Yes?”
“What’s the jail going to be like when we get there?”
“We’ll check in at the front desk. You’ll need to show ID. They’ll ask for documentation on the emergency placement—Karen should have sent that ahead, but you have the paperwork just in case, right?”
“I do.” Naomi nodded, her hand tightening on the car seat.
“They’ll take us through security,” Micah continued. “Metal detector. Bag check. Standard procedure.”
“Okay.”
“The visit itself will be in a room with individual stations. Glass partitions. Phones on either side for communication. You’ll sit with Grace on one side, Sissy will be on the other.”
Naomi’s reflection shifted, her expression tightening further. “She won’t be able to hold her.”
“No, she won’t.”
Naomi was quiet a moment. Then she asked, “How long do we get?”
“Thirty minutes. Maybe less, depending on how busy they are.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Naomi exhaled slowly and nodded.
“She’ll be grateful you came,” he said.
Naomi didn’t respond.
The road straightened, and the county jail came into view ahead—a low, concrete building surrounded by chain-link fencing and razor wire. The parking lot was half full, mostly older vehicles with dents and faded paint as well as law enforcement vehicles.
Micah pulled into a spot near the entrance and cut the engine.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Grace made a small sound from her car seat. Naomi’s hand moved to adjust the blanket around her legs.
Micah turned in his seat to look at her.
Her face was pale. Her jaw was set. But her hands were shaking.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asked.
Naomi stared at the building in front of them. Then she drew in a wobbly breath and nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”
Micah held her gaze for a beat longer, then nodded. “All right. Stay close to me. I’ll handle the desk.”
He climbed out of the SUV and moved to the back door, opening it for her. Naomi unbuckled Grace from the car seat and lifted her into her arms, tucking the blanket tighter around the baby’s small body. Bringing the carrier would only complicate things, so she’d decided to simply carry her inside.
The wind was cold, sharper here in the open lot, and Naomi turned slightly to shield Grace from it.
Micah grabbed the diaper bag from the seat and slung it over his shoulder.
They walked toward the entrance together, Micah half a step ahead, his body angled slightly in front of hers.
The automatic doors slid open with a hiss, and the smell hit them immediately—industrial cleaner, stale air, something metallic underneath it all.
Naomi’s steps faltered for just a second.
Micah glanced back at her. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”
She nodded again, tightened her hold on Grace, and stepped inside.