I felt my shoulders sag in relief.
“Do you know who left him?” the officer asked.
“No,” Mark said too quickly. “We have no connection to this child.”
No connection.
It sounded rehearsed.
“Do you have cameras facing the yard?” the officer asked.
“No,” Mark answered.
“Yes,” I said at the same time.
We locked eyes.
“I’ll review the footage,” I added.
As the paramedic carried the baby away, his tiny fingers wrapped around mine.
“We don’t even know his name,” I whispered.
At the hospital, they confirmed he was healthy.
“Someone wanted him found,” the nurse told me gently. “He’s loved, even if they couldn’t keep him.”
Mark texted me: Come home. Don’t make this personal.
I replied: It already is.
When I got home, Mark was waiting in the kitchen.
“You lied about the camera,” I said.
“I forgot,” he snapped.
“You don’t forget something you check every night.”
“I was stressed!”
“So was the baby.”
He said nothing.
That was the second crack.
That night, I barely slept.
Around four in the morning, I heard Mark get up and quietly shut his office door.
