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The mailman is outside the front door trying to push the volumes of mail through the slot in the door. Anne stands in the kitchen and watches. She could open the door and take it from him, to make his job easier, but she doesn’t want to. She knows all that hate mail is for her. He looks up then, through the window, and sees her. Their eyes meet for just a second, and then he looks down and works on pushing more envelopes through the slot. She and this same mailman used to exchange pleasantries, less than a week ago. But everything is different now. The letters have dropped onto the floor by the door in a jumbled pile. He’s struggling to push a large, thick envelope through the slot, but it won’t go. He pushes it halfway in and then turns and goes back down the walk and on to the next house.

Anne stands staring at the pile on the floor, at the package stuffed in the slot. The package is holding the slot open. She goes to the door and tries to pull it through. It’s one of those bubble envelopes. It’s stuck, and she can’t unwedge it. She will have to open the door and grab it from the outside. She peers through the window to see if anyone is out there. The reporters who were there earlier in the morning while the police were packing up have cleared off. Anne opens the door and yanks the package out of the slot, quickly slips back inside, closes the door, and relocks it.

Without thinking, she opens the package.

There’s a mint green onesie inside.


SIXTEEN


Anne screams.

Marco hears her scream and bolts downstairs from the bedroom. He sees her standing by the front door, a pile of unopened mail at her feet, a package in her hand. He can see the green onesie peeking out of the package.

She turns to him, her face white. “This just came in the mail,” she says, her voice strange and hollow.

Marco approaches her, and she holds the package out to him. They look down at it together, almost afraid to touch it. What if it’s a prank? What if someone thought it would be funny to send a mint green onesie to the awful couple who left their baby home alone?

Marco takes the package from Anne and gently opens it further. He draws out the onesie. It looks right. He turns it over. There’s the embroidered bunny on the front.

“Oh, God,” Anne gasps, and bursts into tears, her hands up to her face.

“It’s hers,” Marco says, his voice harsh. “It’s Cora’s.”

Anne nods but can’t speak.

There’s a note pinned to the inside of the little outfit. It’s typewritten, in a small font.


The baby is fine. Ransom is five million dollars. Do NOT tell the police. Bring the money on Thursday at 2 pm. Any sign of police you will never see her again.

There is a detailed map at the bottom of the note.

“We’re going to get her back, Anne!” Marco cries.

Anne feels as though she might faint. After all they’ve been through, it seems too good to be true. She takes the onesie from him and holds it to her face and breathes in. She can smell her baby. She can smell her. It is overwhelming. She breathes in again, and her knees weaken.

“We’ll do exactly what it says,” Marco says.

“Shouldn’t we tell the police?”

“No! It says not to tell them. We can’t risk screwing this up. Don’t you see? It’s too risky to involve the police. If he thinks he’s going to get caught, he might just kill Cora and get rid of her! We have to do it his way. No police.”

Anne nods. It scares her, doing this on their own. But Marco is right. What have the police done for them? Nothing. All the police have done is suspect them. The police are not their friends. They will have to get Cora back on their own.

“Five million,” Marco says, his voice tense. He looks up at her, suddenly worried. “Do you think your parents will be okay with five million?”

“I don’t know.” She bites her lip anxiously. “They have to be.”

“We don’t have a lot of time. Two days,” Marco says. “We have to ask your parents. They have to start getting the money together.”

“I’ll call them.” She moves toward the phone in the kitchen.

“Use your cell phone. And, Anne, tell them right up front—no police. No one can know.”

She nods and reaches for her cell.

? ? ?

They sit on the sofa in the living room, Anne and Marco, side by side. Anne’s mother perches elegantly on the edge of the armchair while Anne’s father paces the floor of the living room between the front window and the sofa. They all watch him.

“You’re sure that’s the right outfit?” he says again, pausing in his pacing.

“Yes,” Anne says sharply. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“We just need to be sure. Five million dollars is a lot of money.” He sounds petulant. “We have to be sure we’re dealing with the person who actually has Cora. This has been all over the papers. Somebody could take advantage.”

“It’s Cora’s sleeper,” Marco says firmly. “We recognize it.”

“Can you get us the money or not?” Anne asks, her voice strident. She looks anxiously at her mother. Just when she was getting her hopes up again, this might all fall apart. How could her father be doing this to her?

“Of course we can get the money,” her mother says firmly.

“I didn’t say we couldn’t get the money,” her father answers. “I said it might be difficult. But if I have to move mountains, then I’ll move mountains.”

Marco watches his father-in-law, trying to keep his dislike from showing itself on his face. They all know it’s mostly Anne’s mother’s money, but he has to act like it’s all his. Like he earned it all himself. What a jerk.

“Two days isn’t much time to raise that much money. We’ll have to cash in some investments,” Richard says self-importantly.

“That’s not a problem,” Anne’s mother says. She looks at her daughter. “Don’t worry about the money, Anne.”

“Can you do it quietly, without anyone knowing?” Marco asks.

Richard Dries exhales loudly, thinking. “We’ll talk to our lawyer about how to handle it. We’ll figure it out.”

“Thank God,” Anne says in relief.

“How exactly is this going to work?” Richard asks.

Marco says, “Just like the note says. No police. I’ll go, with the money. I give them the money, and they give me Cora.”

“Maybe I should come with you, so you don’t screw it up,” Anne’s father says.

Marco regards him with open malice. “No.” He adds, “If they see someone else, they might not go through with it.”

They stare at each other. “I’m the one with the big checkbook,” Richard says.

“Actually, I’m the one with the big checkbook,” Alice says sharply.

“Dad, please,” Anne says, terrified that her father is going to ruin everything. Her glance darts anxiously from him to her mother.

“We have no proof that Cora is even alive,” Richard says. “It could be a trick.”

“If Cora isn’t there, I won’t leave the money,” Marco says, watching Richard continue to pace in front of the window.

“I don’t like it,” Richard says. “We should tell the police.”

“No!” Marco says. The two men glare at each other. Richard looks away first.

“What choice do we have?” Anne asks, her voice shrill.

“I still don’t like it,” Richard says.

“We will do exactly what the note says,” Anne’s mother says firmly, giving her husband a sharp glance.

Anne’s father looks at her and says, “I’m sorry, Anne. You’re right. We don’t have a choice. Your mother and I had better get started on the money.”

? ? ?

Marco watches his father-and mother-in-law get into their Mercedes and drive off. He’s barely eaten since this all started. His jeans hang loose on his body.

It was an awful moment when Richard was being difficult about raising the money. But he’d just been grandstanding. He had to make sure everybody knew what a great guy he was. Had to make sure everybody appreciated how important he was.

“I knew they would come through for us,” Anne says, suddenly beside Marco.

How did she always manage to say exactly the wrong thing? At least when it came to her parents. How could she not see her father for what he was? Couldn’t she see how manipulative he was? But Marco is silent.

“It’s going to be okay,” Anne says, taking Marco’s hand in hers. “We’re going to get her back. And then everyone will see that we were the victims here.” She squeezes his hand. “And then we should make the damn police apologize.”

“Your father will never let us forget that they bailed us out.”

“He won’t see it that way! He’ll see it as saving Cora, I’m sure of it! They won’t hold it over us.”

His wife can be so na?ve. Marco gives her hand a squeeze back. “Why don’t you lie down and try to get some rest? I’m going to go out for a bit.”


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