Woman on the Edge(21)

You can’t keep her safe.

“Nicki?”

Nicole’s vision blurred. It was all too much. “My pills. Please, I need my pills. They’re in my medicine cabinet.” On shaky legs, she eased herself to the nursery floor and sat.

She couldn’t hear Tessa’s sandals pad along the expensive cream carpet, but she heard the rattle of the bottle and water rushing out of the tap in the en suite.

“How many?” Tessa called out.

“Two. Now. Please.” Pressure thumped in her throat. She was about to hyperventilate. Tessa appeared. She exchanged Quinn for the pills and a glass of water. “Thank you,” Nicole croaked.

The only sounds were Tessa’s gentle inhales and exhales as she sat down beside Nicole. Then Tessa laid Quinn comfortably across her lap.

“Nicki, it was an accident. That’s all. I know this is hard. Listen, postpartum depression can cause these feelings. Paranoia. Fear. Panic. It’s going to be okay.”

Nicole’s shoulders shook, and tears poured from her eyes. “It’s not okay, Tess. I think Greg’s working late to avoid me. I don’t blame him. I’m a mess.” She sniffed her shirt. She caught the unpleasant odor of her own sweat.

“It’s never been bad like this between us. He looks at me like … like I’m glass that can shatter at any moment. I … I can’t tell him about that summer, and it feels like he’s hiding things from me, too.”

Tessa rocked Quinn and got up. “Greg never expected to be a father. It’s hard on him, too, you know.” She smiled. “Go easy on him. He’ll come around. If he doesn’t, he’ll have to answer to me.”

Nicole had to smile. Only five foot two, but Tessa had so much inner strength.

“You’ll keep my secret, right?” Nicole begged Tessa with her eyes.

Tessa looked right back at her and said, “Always. You’re not alone, Nic. I’m here for you. The future is going to be so bright that all this will fade away into the past and won’t even matter anymore.”

You don’t know, Nicole thought. And I can never tell you the whole truth.





CHAPTER NINE MORGAN




August 8

Nicole Markham left me custody of her child? My phone clatters to the floor, and my body chills like ice water was poured down my back. This is insane.

I’m still half-asleep, and it suddenly occurs to me that this might not be real. I grab my phone and ask, “Is this a cruel prank? Who are you really?”

“Ms. Kincaid, as I’ve said, I’m Nicole’s attorney, and I realize this is a shock, but it’s no joke. You can easily look me up. I called you from my office number.” There’s a pause.

“It’s not that.” How much do I tell this man? I have to tread carefully. Does he know I’m the woman from the platform, the last person to talk to Nicole before she jumped?

“There must be a mistake,” I say. My voice is strangled.

He coughs. “There’s no mistake, Ms. Kincaid. I assumed you knew about Nicole’s plans. When I saw Nicole on Thursday, she was adamant that I arrange a legal petition granting you custody of her child. Soon, I’ll file the will into public record, but I needed to alert you immediately because this now concerns a child’s physical and financial security. You need to sign and file the guardianship form within thirty days.”

I hold the phone so tightly I hear a crack. “Wait, Nicole changed her will on Thursday?”

On Thursday, I was at Haven House all day. Little did I know that at the same time, a complete stranger was writing my name on a petition giving me custody of her baby.

“Ms. Kincaid, I’m confused. Are you saying you weren’t aware you’d been named guardian?”

“No, I was not.”

I’m as confused as he is, but there’s something else I feel—a tiny spark of hope, so ridiculous, so crazed, that I shouldn’t pay any attention to it. It’s that same bud of promise I let bloom when, a year after Ryan’s death, I printed off an application from an adoption agency. I started filling it out but stalled when I got to the section asking for personal references. I’d lost my entire network. I’d even tried finding some solace in a web forum for childless women like me. None of my friends had been in touch, so who would vouch for me? And if the agency searched online, they’d soon find out about Ryan and everything that had happened. Has Nicole’s attorney checked me out, too? It doesn’t sound like he has.

I know how dangerous hope can be. Quinn Markham doesn’t belong to me. It’s absurd.

I pull my duvet closer. “Where’s Quinn’s father?”

“Mr. Markham abandoned the family home some time ago and seems unwilling—or perhaps unable—to carry out day-to-day care for Quinn. That’s why Nicole named an alternate guardian.”

“Mr. Looms, do you know why she chose me?”

He pauses for a few seconds before answering. “Nicole led me to believe that you and she were close friends and that you are the best person to raise her daughter. You were close friends with her, right?”

I blink. How can this be? How scared and desperate must this woman have been to trust a total stranger over anyone else in her life? I rack my brain for what I’m missing, for clues about what I should say. I have to tell her attorney the truth. There’s a baby’s life at stake. “We weren’t friends. I—I actually didn’t know her at all.”