Dr. James Turner’s size-twelve loafers clicked against the worn linoleum floor, echoing down the cold, white hallway like a clock and marking the seconds as they ticked away. It was a constant reminder of the time slipping away.
How long would this baby live?
Dread sapped the energy from his body as he stared down at the small bundle he was holding in his arms. The newborn was healthy, and her parents were demanding to see her. He had no right to keep her from them, but he wished he had another option.
Shaking his head, he kept walking, forcing himself closer to their room. This was the fourth daughter he’d delivered for Dr. and Mrs. Huff.
None of the others had lived to see their first birthday. Crib death had claimed them all.
CPS had inspected their home. There had been no signs of abuse or neglect, so police and child services had deemed the deaths tragic but not criminal.
Dr. Turner hoped this baby would be safe. He had run every test at his disposal, and to the best of his knowledge, this little girl was a perfectly healthy newborn.
But the other infants had seemed every bit as healthy…
Something knotted in his gut as he weighed her chances of survival. He was beginning to wish he had asked the nurse to bring the couple their baby. Looking the other way would have been so much easier.
But he couldn’t. Something was happening to these infants. It couldn’t be coincidence that they had all died. Crib deaths happened, it was true, but it was extremely unlikely to happen three times in the same family, especially to otherwise healthy babies.
But if they weren’t dying in their sleep, then how?
Deep down, he was afraid he already knew the answer. That was why he had insisted on bringing this child to them himself. He hoped that by talking to the Huffs, seeing them hold their little girl, that he might be able to make a difference in her future. That maybe this infant would survive.
He had to try.
With each echo of his footsteps, Dr. Turner’s trepidation multiplied. He stopped when he reached the door and looked down one last time at the baby in his arms. For a split second, he yearned to keep on walking. Just wander out of the hospital and give this infant to a couple who couldn’t have children of their own, people that would love her and keep her safe.
But he couldn’t do that, no matter how much it seemed like the right thing to do. Kidnapping was a crime, and he drew the line at breaking the law. He was probably overreacting. He had to be. Surely, if there was any chance of foul play, Child Protective Services would have taken action against the Huffs. But just in case, he’d documented every aspect of Mrs. Huff’s delivery, as well as the infant’s initial test results and prognosis. This time, if she fell to the same fate as the other babies, maybe his documentation might lead to an investigation.
Shifting the tiny bundle into one arm, he carefully opened the door and entered the room. The baby’s father spun around with cold, emotionless eyes. He was tall and slender with a pronounced pointed nose and short brown hair.
Dr. Huff uncrossed his arms. “We were beginning to wonder about you, Dr. Turner.”
“I apologize for the delay,” he replied. “I was running some tests to be sure your precious little girl here stays nice and healthy. Given the previous family history, I thought it pertinent to be extra cautious in this case.”
A silent glance passed between the new parents, sending a chill down Dr. Turner’s spine. While most couples who had previously lost babies were anxious, almost desperate, to hold their new infant, to touch it and love it, Dr. and Mrs. Huff made no such effort. In fact, they hadn’t even moved close enough to see her yet. It was awkward, almost ominous to witness. The cool detachment in their eyes made Dr. Turner wonder if they even wanted this child.
Maybe they were simply afraid to love the infant for fear she might die like the others had. He didn’t know, but something about the way they were staring at each other concerned him. Almost like two wolves circling their prey and giving each other silent signals before attacking.
Dr. Turner cleared his throat, pushing the disturbing image from his mind as he turned toward the biochemical research physician—although no one in the local medical community knew exactly what kind of research he did—and made a gesture to offer him his baby. “Would you like to hold her, Dr. Huff?”
The infant’s father didn’t move. Dr. Turner’s smile faded when neither Dr. Huff nor his wife made the slightest effort to see their child.
They both just stared at him.
Making a final attempt, Dr. Turner took another step closer. “Don’t worry, she’s healthy as an ox and beautiful as a butterfly. Come take a peek.”
Again, neither parent moved. Mrs. Huff looked over at her husband and gave him an encouraging nod, but he remained stiff.
“Does she have ten fingers and toes?” he asked cautiously.
Dr. Turner started to frown. “Yes, ten of each.”
“And she doesn’t have a coned head, does she?” Mrs. Huff interrupted.
He froze for a moment, caught off guard by their questions. “No.”
“And no nasty birthmarks?” Mrs. Huff’s nose crinkled in disgust.
Dr. Turner shook his head, hoping his uneasiness wasn’t showing on his face as he approached Mrs. Huff’s bedside. “None.”
Cautiously, he handed the infant to her mother. If he didn’t do it now, he might find an excuse not to give her to them at all.
She took her new baby girl and held her in the crook of her arm, her free hand gently caressing the infant’s soft brown hair.
Dr. Turner relaxed. Maybe he had been overreacting. “She’s just perfect.”
Mrs. Huff looked up at her husband. Her lips curved into a thin smile and her eyes gleamed—but not with the joy Dr. Turner was accustomed to seeing in a new mother’s eyes. There was a ferocity there he didn’t understand.
She focused on the tiny bundle. “Did you hear that, Ed?”
Dr. Huff nodded and came closer to her bedside. They stared at their daughter for a moment, and whispered together, “She’s perfect.”