מאת Shari J. Ryan
•
09 Nov, 2023
“My baby! You stole my baby!” Lara Smith is hysterical, her red lipstick smeared. A teddy lies abandoned in the empty crib. But I didn’t know the Smiths had a baby. I didn’t even know this nursery existed…
Lara’s husband - deathly white - dials 911 and says: “The babysitter has taken our little girl.”
I’m in shock. This is impossible. Because earlier this evening when the Smiths left for their fancy charity gala - Lara in high heels and a floor-length gown, Corbin in a tux - they never mentioned a baby. And they certainly didn’t show me this nursery room, up in the eaves of their sprawling, beachfront mansion.
The Smiths only hired me to take care of their nine-year-old twins, now blinking at me in matching horror.
As I’m taken away in handcuffs, I try to swallow my terror.
Because my being here is no coincidence.
When my own darkest secret is spilled, will anyone believe I’m innocent?
And who is really in danger: This perfect couple? Their missing child? Or me?