EXCERPT: Anne feels her scream inside her own head and reverberating off the walls – her scream is everywhere. Then she falls silent and stands in front of the empty crib, rigid, her hand to her mouth. Marco fumbles with the light switch. They both stare at the empty crib where their baby should be. It is impossible that she not be there. There is no way Cora could have gotten out of the crib by herself. She is barely six months old.
‘Call the police,’ Anne whispers, then throws up, the vomit cascading over her fingers and onto the hardwood floor as she bends over. The baby’s room, painted a soft buttery yellow with stencils of baby lambs frolicking on the walls, immediately fills with the smell of bile and panic.
Marco doesn’t move. Anne looks up at him. He is paralyzed, in shock, staring at the empty crib…
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