Chapter 1 - AGAIN
Noah's scream was not a normal cry.
Hungry.
Tired.
Gassy.
Lonely.
This was panic.
Milk ran through his dark hair, down his cheeks, into his ears, and across the blanket beneath him.
Then Noah coughed.
"What did you do?"
"He wouldn't take the bottle."
I rushed forward, lifted him, and wiped his face.
"You poured milk on him?"
"Don't be dramatic."
"He's three months old."
"He needs to learn."
"Learn what?"
"That screaming doesn't control adults."
Linda reached for him.
"Give him here."
I knocked her hand away.
She stumbled into the couch.
Her eyes sharpened.
"You ungrateful little—"
I slapped her.
The crack filled the room.
And the front door opened.
He saw his mother's red cheek.
Then me.
Then Noah, soaked and screaming in my arms.
"Sarah," he said. "What the hell did you do?"
"She attacked me."
"That's a lie."
His face was dark.
I expected him to take Noah.
Instead, he looked at the wet blanket.
Then at the bottle in his mother's hand.
His anger vanished.
"Mom."
Ryan's voice dropped.
"You promised me you'd never do this again."
"Again?"
Too late.
At the small walnut cabinet beside the stairs.
The one with the locked bottom drawer.
The drawer Ryan had forbidden me to open since Noah was born.
"Old family papers," he said.
Now Linda was staring at it too.
Not casually.
Terrified.
I shifted Noah higher against my shoulder.
"Ryan."
"What is in that drawer?"
"Nothing you need to worry about."
"Open it."
"Sarah, not now."
"Actually, now is the only time."
Linda snapped, "That drawer has nothing to do with you."
"You poured milk over my baby."
"And you already knew she had done something like this before."
I said, "Open the drawer."
For ten seconds, he did nothing.
Then Noah coughed again.
May you like
Reached into his pocket.
And pulled out the key.
