Suspicious Minds (Stranger Things Novels #1)(93)

Jane squalled like a battle cry, ready to tell the world what she thought of it. Jane was here. She’s here.

Someone was handing a man in scrubs her baby. She knew his eyes, those blue eyes. She had to stop him.

That’s my girl. Consciousness slipped through her grasp. That’s my girl.



* * *



—

Becky was sitting beside her hospital bed when she came to.

“Where is she?” Terry demanded, fighting her way to a sitting position. “Where’s Jane?”

The stillness in Becky before she answered spoke volumes. “I’m so sorry, Terry. There were complications and they weren’t able to save her…”

“No, I heard her.” Terry fought the IV out of her arm and wrestled Becky to get to her feet. “You don’t understand. I saw him. He took her. He took Jane!”

“Terry, no. There’s no baby. You have to listen to me.”

But no one would listen to Terry.

Her baby was alive. Alive.

And she would find a way to prove it.





“Just put her in it,” Dr. Brenner told the nurse who oversaw the child’s care.

“You could— I could carry her,” she corrected, holding the baby as if he was a threat to it.

“It’s best if I do this alone; could you wait outside in the hall while I’m in with them?” It wasn’t a dignified request, but neither was handling the child personally if she spit up or soiled herself. Babies did those things, no matter how much you wished they wouldn’t.

The nurse ever-so-slowly lowered the baby into the stroller. Her mostly bald head, with its fuzz and slightly unfocused eyes, waggled around. When would she seem like a person?

Patience, he thought, you’ll develop it now, one way or another. She’s making you.

If anyone could, it would be this subject.

To underscore who was in charge, he pushed the stroller forward, motioning for the nurse to open the door. She held it, fluttering her fingers at the child. As if a child so young could understand anything except its own biological imperatives…Sleep. Eat. Defecate. Sleep more. Eat more. Repeat.

But someday…Someday she would be his crowning achievement.

Eight had no idea, but the baby was kept only two locked doors away from her. One with a more sophisticated keypad, the other with only a simple lock, opening into a room outfitted as a nursery.

She’d been desultory and throwing fits for months, and Brenner had stopped visiting her again, unless it was absolutely necessary. He had what he needed to bring her back around, and now, finally, it was time for them to meet. All would be forgiven.

According to the nurse, the baby would be ready to play soon enough. That would be good for both girls. He’d already directed the nursery to be painted with bright colors that Eight would approve of.

“This is it,” Dr. Brenner said, steering the wheels over the tile. The nurse opened the door to Eight’s room. When she started to follow him through, he said, “Wait in the hall, please.”

She warily eyed the stroller, but remained where she was told.

Eight was on the top bunk, staring at the ceiling. He noticed she’d drawn up there, a rainbow with her colored pencils. Maybe he’d suggest that for the playroom.

She’d finally drawn something, at least. She’d stared at the ceiling far too much lately. Or so he’d been told.

“Look what I’ve brought,” Brenner announced. “Your new baby sister.”

The girl could move, he’d give her that. Eight tossed herself off the bed, landing on her feet, and raced to the edge of the stroller where she pulled up short. She looked down into it. Almost shy. Nervous.

“This is Eleven,” Dr. Brenner said.

“Eleven.” Eight considered, looking at her hands. “I’d have to count her on toes, too. Does that mean nine and ten are here? Five and six? More?”

“This is your friend, Eleven.” He frowned at her. “That’s all you need to know.”

“She’s too little to be a friend.”

“She’ll be bigger someday, and she’ll be like you.”

Absorbing that, Eight leaned over the basket to examine the wriggling baby, and, at last, he heard her whisper: “I’ll watch over you, baby Eleven.”

She looked up at him with a grin. “Can I help take care of her?”

“Nurse can teach you how to play safely with her. Would you like that?”

“We’ll be friend-family,” she sang. “Eight and Eleven! Sisters!”

Of sorts, he thought. As long as it serves my purposes.

He wondered if Terry Ives was still babbling to her sister and any reporter who’d listen about how he’d stolen her child.

The child was his. She should’ve listened to him when he told her.



* * *



—

Terry sat on the bench in the park and waited. It was a nice day, and Gloria had suggested the meeting place. Terry knew it was because she thought the fresh air would do her good. She’d spent a lot of time alone after the hospital, trying to convince Becky of what she knew. Calling reporters, trying to get more leads on who Brenner had been before he came here.

Brenner had stolen her child. She knew it, but she couldn’t get anyone to listen.