“Upstairs. Sleeping. The monitor’s on.” She clutched it like a lifeline.
“They can’t do this,” she cried. “She knows us.”
“We’ll fight,” I said. “I promise.”
That’s when the knock came.
Not friendly. Not casual. Three sharp, deliberate knocks.
I opened the door.
Melissa stood there.
We’d kept contact open intentionally. Megan believed erasing her would be cruel. We wanted openness, not secrecy.
Melissa looked different—more composed, more certain.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
Megan nodded silently.
Melissa sat down and spoke plainly. She wasn’t there to take the baby that night.
“I need money,” she said.
Continue reading…
