Chapter 1 - The Hotel Key
I heard the newborn screaming through the wall.
I found the baby’s uncle pouring ice water from a basin across the outside of the blanket.
His wife kept both hands locked around the carrier handle.
For a second, all I could register was the sound.
The baby was screaming hard enough to cut through the wall.
The blanket around the carrier was already being hit with freezing water.
The uncle still had the basin in his hands.
His wife still had both hands clamped around the carrier handle.
I moved before either of them could stop me.
I knocked the basin aside, grabbed the carrier, and yanked it toward me.
Then I lifted the newborn straight against my chest.
I pulled my coat around him before any more water could soak through the blanket.
The basin hit the floor.
Ice scattered everywhere.
The uncle came at me immediately.
His hand caught me across the jaw hard enough to split the skin inside my lip.
Pain shot through the side of my face.
Blood filled the corner of my mouth before I could even steady myself.
I never let go of the baby.
Then his wife shoved me sideways.
My forearm dragged across the edge of a cabinet from wrist to elbow.
The scrape opened fast, hot and burning.
I twisted my body so the newborn stayed tucked against my chest instead of taking the impact.
That was the only thing I cared about in that second.
I had to keep him covered.
My jaw throbbed.
My mouth tasted like blood.
My arm burned every time I tightened it around the baby.
I kept my coat pulled over him and held him against me while the room came apart around us.
Ice cubes bounced across the floorboards.
The basin rolled under a chair.
Bottles and wipes floated through the shallow puddles spreading across the floor.
A framed photo crashed face-down beside my shoe.
And the baby was still in my arms.
He was still protected.
Then his father rushed in.
He saw his son first, pressed safely against my chest beneath my coat.
Then he saw the blood at my mouth and the long scrape running down my forearm.
He turned toward his brother.
Everything happened fast after that.
He struck his brother across the head.
Then he forced both adults toward the door.
I stayed where I was, holding the newborn close.
I tried to keep my injured arm steady while water and melting ice spread beneath our feet.
The uncle went out first.
His wife followed with her tote swinging at her side.
Then the tote tipped over.
A hotel key sleeve slid across the wet floor.
I stared down at the small paper envelope as it soaked up the freezing water.
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The ink on the sleeve bled, revealing a handwritten room number and a name.
It was the name of the baby's mother, who had supposedly died in childbirth three weeks ago.
