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child could be heard wailing in the background of the argument. Jacques Frietz stood in the corner of the room, trying to block out the noise. How must he proceed with this situation? A woman was standing in front of him. She looked close to tears. Jacques himself looked baffled. His usually clean parted hair was now a bird's nest; his glasses were tilted; his usually spotless shoes now had mud on them; the collar of his white shirt was stained with blood. “Do you think you can just run away from this, Jacques?” The woman's voice was high-pitched, like she was trying not to let all hell break loose. Jacques turned around to avoid her gaze.
He looked at the child. The child's crib was stationed in a corner, while the walls of the room had been painted with Disney characters. The room also had multiple other cribs. A glass cabinet full of stuffed toys on one side could be seen. The ceiling had been painted a baby pink color. A big window overlooking the garden only showed pitch darkness. It looked to be a nursery. “A child went missing, right under your nose. Do you think you can avoid that harsh reality by looking away?!!” The woman had failed to control her emotions and was screaming at this point. “They’ll never find out.”
“THAT IS BULLSHIT! IT’S THEIR CHILD WHO WENT MISSING, NOT A SKATEBOARD. THEY WILL BRING THE POLICE SOMEDAY. IF NOT TOMORROW, THEN THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW. THEY ARE GOING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT YOU DID!” The woman was now sobbing hysterically. He turned around to look at her. “They won’t be able to find me,” he whispered. His voice was almost nonexistent over the baby’s wails. “Oh great! That will work when you move to Mars!” She advanced toward him and began to hit his chest. The baby had become quiet now and observed the scene in silence. "How could you do this to us, Jacques? We could have managed; we could have figured out a way. Why did you take their child?" The woman’s voice had now become a whisper, but even whispering could do nothing to hide the pain in her voice. Jacques held her in his arms as a lone tear escaped his eyes. They both stood, swaying in silence, holding each other. Life had taken an unpredictable turn for them. The reality was too harsh to face. They held each other. The child still lay awake. In another crib, another child could be seen. Asleep. Away from the reality of it all, the child giggled.
