There was absolutely no possibility that she had secretly given birth.
This baby was not hers.
So whose baby had my daughter suddenly brought to me?
And why did she look terrified to explain?
I was about to demand answers when I noticed her hands trembling.
Sophie wasn’t acting rebellious.
She was scared.
Whatever had happened, interrogating her in the middle of a parking lot wasn’t going to help.
So I swallowed every question fighting to escape.
“Okay.”
Her head snapped toward me.
“What?”
“If this baby needs somewhere safe tonight, then we’ll take her home.”
Sophie stared at me.
“We’ll figure everything else out later.”
Her expression softened slightly.
I stepped closer.
“But tell me one thing. Is the baby’s mother alive?”
“Yes.”
“Is she safe?”
Sophie nodded quickly.
“Yes. I promise.”
“Then get in the car.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I loaded Sophie’s suitcases into the trunk while she carefully secured a secondhand car seat in the back.
Once we were on the road, I spent nearly as much time looking into the rearview mirror as I did watching the highway.
Sophie sat beside the baby, gently rocking her.
Then she began humming.
I recognized the melody immediately.
It was the lullaby I used to sing to Sophie when she was little.
The way she held the newborn wasn’t awkward.
It wasn’t uncertain.
She moved with the practiced rhythm of someone who had been caring for that child for a while.
Eventually, I couldn’t keep quiet anymore.
“How long are you planning to keep her?”
“Just a few days.”
“And after that?”
Sophie looked down.
“Her mother gets paid at the end of the week. She needs enough money to get somewhere safe.”
“Why can’t her mother keep the baby until then?”
Sophie swallowed.
“I promised I wouldn’t tell you anything else.”
“Sophie—”
“Please, Mom. Just give me a few days.”
A few days for what?
And what exactly was supposed to happen when those days were over?
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
Instead of pushing harder, I asked the simplest question I could think of.
“What’s her name?”
Sophie paused.
“She doesn’t have one yet.”
The rest of the drive passed mostly in silence.
When we got home, Sophie immediately carried the baby upstairs.
I reheated leftovers for dinner.
Neither of us ate much.
That night, after Sophie went to bed, I found myself sitting alone in the kitchen staring at the diaper bag.
I told myself I would wait until morning.
I almost succeeded.
