Woman on the Edge(19)

I grope for my phone on the bed and put it to my ear. “Hello,” I croak, my eyes still closed.

“Ms. Kincaid, this is Rick Looms.”

I run a hand through my tangled hair, barely awake when he says, “I’m Nicole Markham’s attorney.”

Anticipation and apprehension twine together into a ball in my throat, preventing me from responding. Why is Nicole’s attorney contacting me?

I should never have answered the phone.

“I was Ms. Markham’s attorney for many years. I’m sorry to inform you that she passed away unexpectedly last night.”

The ball in my throat expands, and I say nothing.

“It’s a shock, I’m sure. Because there’s a child involved, I had to contact you immediately should you wish to begin the process.”

What process? What is he talking about? All I can hear is the blood roaring in my ears.

“Ms. Kincaid?”

I cough into the phone. My throat has gone completely dry. “Sorry,” I say. “I’m trying to understand what you just said. I’m not sure why you’ve contacted me.”

“Ms. Markham left very clear instructions for you in her will.”

I bolt up. “Her will?” I ask incredulously.

Mr. Looms clears his throat. “Ms. Kincaid, Nicole left you custody of her daughter.”





CHAPTER EIGHT NICOLE




Before

Nicole was reaching for a bottle from the kitchen cupboard when she heard the piercing crash of glass shattering. She jumped in fright, bashing her head into the sharp corner of the cabinet. Then she froze. Was someone in her house? Greg was at work. Quinn was in her arms. Nicole’s head was spinning. She was so woozy that she put Quinn on the floor and curled into a small ball beside her.

Then she heard the front door open and close quietly. Footsteps echoed on the marble through her house. Nicole whimpered, starting to crawl toward the pantry, which had a door she could shut.

The footsteps got closer. She wasn’t going to make it.

“Nic! What are you doing?”

Tessa’s dainty sandaled feet appeared in front of her. Nicole touched her forehead where a cut oozed blood. Trembling, she explained. “I heard a noise. Something breaking, and I banged my head on the cupboard. Was the glass on the front door smashed? Is that how you got in?”

Tessa glanced toward the front hall. “No, the door is fine.” Her brow wrinkled. “I knocked, but you weren’t answering, so I tried the knob and it was open.” She inspected the cut, her eyes clouded with worry. “That looks like a hard bang. You okay?”

“What do you mean the door was open? That’s impossible!” Her voice rose shrilly, and Quinn screamed. “Shush, honey. Mommy’s here. I’m here,” she soothed.

The door was locked. Nicole knew it was. She had checked it five times after Greg left that morning, like she did every day since the mobile had appeared in Quinn’s room a week ago, the mobile she’d ripped from the crib and tossed in the garbage and never wanted to see again.

Tessa gently took Quinn from the floor, quieting and cradling her as though she were her own child. “I think she’s sensing your stress. Just take a minute. I’m here now.”

Nicole blew out a breath. She touched her forehead. The bleeding had stopped. The silence was so nice. But seeing how calm and efficient her best friend was made her feel inadequate and worthless. She was so obsessed with watching Quinn every second that daily tasks had become insurmountable. Who was she? She barely recognized herself.

She hadn’t sent any photos of her daughter to anyone at Breathe to show her off, like her staff did when they had a baby. She hadn’t felt this untethered, this useless, in decades. She had hundreds of unanswered emails in her in-box, unreturned phone calls. Yes, she was on maternity leave, but she’d fully intended to work from home and pop in to Breathe at least every few days. She hadn’t stepped foot into her company in three weeks. She couldn’t hear a noise in the house without thinking someone was after her and the baby.

She hadn’t confided in Tessa about the odd occurrences since Quinn was born. It would sound deranged. She couldn’t tell her she was paranoid that Donna was watching them. And she couldn’t tell Tessa she was terrified Donna was going to hurt them. Nicole didn’t know what Donna was capable of. Or what she could be planning.

Still holding the baby, Tessa handed her a towel for her face.

“Thank you, Tessa,” Nicole said, wiping away the sticky blood on her forehead. “I swear I heard something. I was just so scared that someone broke in.” Tessa had always been the person she vented to. She needed to explain how she felt, without mentioning Donna. She tried to form the right words. “I’m not myself at all right now. I’m so anxious all the time. I don’t know what’s going on with me or how to fix it.”

She’d also gotten more forgetful since the mobile had shown up in the nursery. More panicked. She put her head on her knees. “Tess, I think something’s wrong with me.”

She lifted her head and watched Tessa put Quinn in the vibrating chair—Nicole had one in almost every room, even though she rarely let Quinn out of her arms. Tessa was at her side. She helped Nicole to her feet. She was so dizzy. She made it to a chair, and the wooziness faded.