My voice came out as a whisper.
His eyes lifted toward mine.
I wanted to hug him.
I wanted to demand answers.
I wanted to apologize for an entire year in one breath.
Instead, I stared at the baby.
“Where have you been?”
He said nothing.
“Whose baby is that?”
His hands were trembling so badly that the blanket shook.
“Please, Mom.”
His voice cracked.
“Just let me inside.”
I stepped aside immediately.
Ethan entered without another word.
The moment I closed the door, he turned toward me.
Then he said something I never expected.
“Lock it.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Please. Lock the door.”
Something in his expression made me obey.
I turned the deadbolt.
Then Ethan lowered his voice.
“Don’t tell Dad I’m here.”
My heart began pounding.
“Ethan, what is going on?”
He looked toward the windows as though he expected someone to appear outside.
“Promise me.”
“Promise you what?”
“That you won’t call him.”
I looked again at the newborn in his arms.
“Ethan, you vanished for a year and came home carrying a baby. You have to tell me what happened.”
His expression changed.
“Carrying a baby?”
I hesitated.
“Your baby?”
He flinched.
Then he looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.
Anger.
Fear.
And something close to disbelief.
“My baby?”
He gave a short, humorless laugh.
“Mom, you really have no idea who you married, do you?”
A cold feeling spread through my stomach.
“What does your father have to do with this?”
Ethan didn’t answer.
Instead, he stepped forward and carefully placed the newborn into my arms.
The baby was impossibly small.
Warm.
Sleeping.
I instinctively held the little bundle against my chest.
Then Ethan dropped to his knees beside the battered suitcase.
“Ethan…”
He dragged it closer.
The zipper was damaged, and one corner had been reinforced with silver tape.
His hands trembled as he opened it.
Slowly.
Carefully.
I watched his face instead of the suitcase.
Whatever was inside terrified him.
Finally, he pulled the top open.
See more on the next page