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I pull my phone out and call him.
No answer.
Twelve missed calls from Dylan, and half a dozen texts look back at me from the screen, asking if I’m okay and to contact him. I stare blankly as the phone rings again, the sound passing over me the way it did as I drove here.
Dylan could’ve helped. He should’ve listened to me.
I’m a mother. I know whether a baby’s mine or not.
Baby sleeps in the car seat behind, as quiet as always. Will my daughter be as peaceful as this baby? He cries and fusses like all newborns I’ve met, but he settles easily. Can he tell I’m not his mother? That I don’t love him?
I snap back to my phone and text Jem. He might want to stay out of the situation, but he can’t avoid the secrets anymore. He knows something.
There’s no immediate reply, and I zone out, the air in the car cooling around me. I try again.
My fingers tremble as I type the words, heart aching. The baby grumbles in his sleep, and I fold my arms across the steering wheel, rest my head, and quell the tears.
They won’t get away with this.
Cold wind blasts my face as I climb from the car and head to the back seat to take him out. He remains asleep through all the tugging at belts and sliding the car seat out. I grab the bag filled with bottles and nappies and sling it over one shoulder. Head down, I stride to the hospital’s rear entrance and press the intercom.
A nurse appears and her brow furrows as she looks between me and the baby through the glass. Opening the door, she studies me closer until recognition flickers across her face.
“Sky?”
I don’t know her.
Not speaking, I step into the warmth and calm, gripping the baby seat in both hands. My arm aches, the seat’s weight adding too much to the baby’s.
“Are you okay? Is something wrong with baby?” The nurse leans down and peeks at him.
Yes, screams a voice in my head as I walk past her.
I pass the poster I stood and stared at last time I was here, promoting breastfeeding and sickening me with guilt at the time because I couldn’t face breastfeeding this intruder. I pass the next poster, about vaccinations, until I reach the nurses station. Opposite, there’s a glass partition overlooking the small nursery.
The baby’s grumbling turns to whimpers, and I place the seat on the floor, looking around for the nurse in charge. The annoying one who met me at the door, who insists on speaking, appears. She crouches down, pushes baby’s hat from his face, and touches him. Her dark ponytail sweeps forward against his face.
“I haven’t hurt him,” I snap as she checks him.
“I didn’t think that.” She looks up at me. “Did you need me to find a doctor? Are you worried he’s sick?”
I wrap my arms around myself. “I want my baby.”
The nurse stands and touches my arm, and I shake her off. “He’s here. Look.”
“You don’t understand!” My voice rises, and I clear my throat. “I want my baby, not this one.”
Silence. Exchanged looks. Does she know what happened?
“Come and sit down, Sky. I’m Mandy.” Mandy takes hold of the car seat and leads me to a small, yellow sofa beneath a brightly lit window. She places the seat down and sits. “What do you mean, Sky?” she asks in a gentle tone.
I sit too and cross my legs, before pulling my phone from my coat pocket. The ringing earlier annoyed me, and I switched it off, but I need to see if Jem replied. Nothing. I grip the phone and look back into Mandy’s smiling face. I bet she knows.
“Imean, this isn’t my baby.”
