Woman on the Edge(67)

Nicole had draped the blanket over Amanda as she slept peacefully, careful not to tuck it near the baby girl’s mouth and nose. Then Nicole went to the living room and fell asleep on the sofa. When she awoke and went to check on Amanda, the blanket was covering her face. Nicole tore it off, and picked the baby up to make sure she was okay. Amanda wasn’t okay. She was dead. And it was all Nicole’s fault.

Before she called 911 and before Donna came, Nicole stuffed the white blanket in a drawer then waited for the fate she deserved. But when the autopsy report came, SIDS was the only cause of death.

Nicole had never told a soul about the blanket. But she always believed Donna knew. Even without absolute proof, a mother always knew.

The weight of that blanket had suffocated Nicole for almost twenty years. She would never know for sure if Amanda had died of sudden infant death syndrome or accidental suffocation.

Nicole closed her eyes and saw the violet light of her third-eye chakra. And she surrendered to the unknown.

But no matter how careful Nicole was with Quinn, she would never stop being afraid for her daughter’s life.

She stuffed formula and bottles into her designer diaper bag and slung it over her shoulder. Then she unlocked the deadbolt. The alarm was already disarmed. Whether she’d done it or not didn’t matter anymore.

They arrived at Grand/State. Her heart began to race now that it was really happening. Quinn nestled against her. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She rooted in the diaper bag for her phone to check the time. 5:15 p.m. She saw the Post-it notes and took one off the top.

Morgan would never see the notes on her pantry wall. She might never be aware of the lurking danger. If Donna was really out for revenge, Nicole had to warn her, just in case Donna didn’t stop. It was almost 5:20. She had time for only one word, and so for the first time in almost twenty years, Nicole wrote Amanda’s name.

She paid for her fare and stood at the top of the escalators leading to the platform. There was no working elevator today. Her eyes blurred when she looked down, so scared her baby would fall from her arms and crash to the bottom before she could ensure that Morgan would be Quinn’s mother.

Quinn started snuffling. Dread flared, quick and sudden, in Nicole’s chest. Please don’t cry. Please don’t call attention to us.

A woman leaned over and cooed, “Oh, what a gorgeous baby. Look at that hair! How old is she?”

“Seven weeks.”

“Well, she’s just precious. Enjoy her. It all goes so fast.” The woman disappeared down the escalator.

When she was gone, Nicole took a deep breath and rode down to the platform. Her eyes darted left and right until finally, Morgan walked by. Nicole bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Morgan’s glossy black hair hung in a thick sheet down her back, and her white eyelet dress was simple but pretty. She kept her head down, avoiding the crowd of commuters. Any second now, Morgan would see her.

Nicole would pass Quinn to her.

Quinn would be safe.

Morgan would have everything she ever wanted.

And so would Nicole.

All it took was a few more steps.

A tiny figure in black, like a shadow, peeked out from the column behind them. She wore tight black yoga pants and a hoodie, pulled over her head so her face wasn’t visible. Was it Donna? Had she followed her here?

It was time.

“I know what you want. Don’t let anyone hurt her. Love her for me, Morgan.”

She thrust Quinn into Morgan’s arms, and Morgan caught the baby. Nicole retreated a few inches, so she was too far away to take her daughter back.

Nicole thought she smelled sandalwood. She looked over at the column again.

The person in the hoodie lifted her face.

Nicole gasped. No, it couldn’t be. Had she had it wrong all this time?

The train came closer.

It must have seemed fast to everyone watching, but for Nicole, time slowed to a crawl. She watched as Morgan cradled her daughter so close to her chest. She knew that Morgan would keep her safe and love her.

Nicole had one last thought before she hit the tracks:

Goodnight moon. Goodnight my child.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN MORGAN




Seven Months Later

“Ben, can you grab me the polka-dot leggings from the dryer?” I call out as I’m changing Quinn’s diaper in her nursery on the pretty, white table Ben and I bought right after I moved in with him. I tape the diaper shut, kiss her forehead, and smile when I’m rewarded with a drooly grin. Quinn’s two front bottom teeth have come in.

Her room is sunshine yellow. On the wall next to her crib are purple flowers, and the billowy curtains over the window are covered in little moons. Above her bookshelf is a framed photo of Ben and Nicole on Halloween, a brother taking care of his little sister. Now he takes care of his niece, and I’m with him every step of the way.

With Greg gone, Ben and I were able to file together for nonparental guardianship of Quinn, agreeing to share the same residence to give Quinn as stable and safe a home as we can. In four more months, if we don’t screw it up, we will be granted full custody and we can officially adopt her. Quinn’s birth father never wanted her, but by giving evidence against Tessa, he made it possible for us to love her.

And more has come to the surface about him. Martinez dug into his financial records. He’d been a client of Ryan’s. Like so many other people my husband destroyed, Greg had invested and lost his entire savings in the scam. Greg went along with Tessa’s plan to get Quinn’s shares of Breathe because he was in such deep financial trouble. Nicole never knew. But Tessa did.