Chapter 35: The Visitor

Nadia walked to the window, watching Mrs. Gable. I watched Nadia. She moved with a casual lethality, like a cat toying with a mouse before the snap of the spine.

"Friendly cat," she repeated, turning the SD card over in her fingers. "But not very discreet."

"Give it back," I said. It was a stupid demand, powerless, but I needed her focus on me, not on the neighbor, not on Mark.

"No," she said simply. She slipped the card into her pocket. "This is insurance. For when Elena inevitably tries to screw me over."

Chloe—Elena—bristled. "I paid you, Nadia. Half upfront."

"And the other half?" Nadia raised an eyebrow. "Upon successful delivery of the asset. Well, the asset is here. But the situation is... messy."

She gestured to the police officer in the hallway. He was still standing there, looking confused, his hand hovering near his radio.

"Ma'am?" the officer called out again. "Is everything okay in there?"

"Everything is fine!" Chloe yelled, her voice pitching too high. "Just a family misunderstanding!"

"I need to see the baby, ma'am. We had a report."

Nadia looked at Mark. "Your play, Daddy."

Mark looked at me. His face was a ruin of conflict. He loved me. I knew he did, in his own twisted, broken way. But he feared them more.

"I'll handle it," he whispered.

He walked to the door. I lunged for him, but Nadia stepped in my path, blocking me with her body. She smelled of stale smoke and old leather. She held Lily easily in one arm, using her free hand to shove me back.

"Sit," she ordered.

Mark opened the door. The officer stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the chaos. The open attic hatch. The dust. The broken lamp.

"Officer," Mark said, putting on his best grieving-husband face. "I'm so sorry. My wife... she's been struggling. Postpartum psychosis. It's very severe."

The officer looked at me. I was disheveled, bleeding from a scratch on my arm, my eyes wild. I looked the part.

"She called 911," the officer said. "She said you were hurting her."

"She's confused," Chloe added, stepping up beside Mark. "She thinks we're stealing her baby. She thinks I'm someone else."

"I am not confused!" I screamed. "They locked me in the attic! That woman—" I pointed at Nadia "—she has my daughter!"

The officer looked at Nadia. She smiled, a calm, reassuring expression that didn't reach her eyes.

"I'm the night nurse," she lied smoothly. "I just arrived. The baby was crying."

"She's a felon!" I yelled. "Her name is Nadia! Check her ID!"

The officer frowned. He looked at Nadia, then at Mark. Doubt flickered in his eyes.

"ID, ma'am?"

Nadia didn't flinch. "It's in my bag downstairs. I'm happy to get it."

"Stay here," the officer said. He turned to Mark. "Sir, I'm going to need to speak with your wife alone."

"That's not a good idea," Chloe said quickly. "She's violent."

"I'll be the judge of that." He stepped toward me. "Ma'am, come with me."

I took a step forward, hope flaring in my chest.

And then the front doorbell rang.

It wasn't a normal ring. It was insistent. Pounding.

*Ding-ding-ding-ding.*

The officer turned. Mark turned.

"Who is that?" Chloe hissed.

The pounding continued. And then, a voice. Loud. Shrill. And terrifyingly familiar.

"Open up! I know you're in there!"

It was Mrs. Gable.

"I saw the woman with the scar!" she shouted through the door. "I saw her take the baby! I'm on the phone with the sheriff right now, and I am not hanging up!"

Chloe’s face went slack.

"Elena," Mrs. Gable yelled, her voice cutting through the heavy wood like a knife. "I know you're up there, Elena! I know what you did to Sarah!"