The Stolen Breath Read online

  What I don’t tell her is that I’m starting to regret letting her into our lives.

  “That’s all right. Now we know.” Jennifer leads me deeper into the room and introduces me to the other moms. When she introduces me as Lea’s mother, the other women react the same way she did. It seems that Madison not only told Jennifer that she was my daughter’s mother, she told everyone. What is she trying to do?

  As the other ladies introduce themselves to me and offer me cupcakes and orange juice, I pretend what happened didn’t affect me, but it shook me to the core.

  I can barely focus on anything around me. I hate that Madison ruined our day.

  I wanted to bond with Lea, to fully be present for her. Instead, my mind is running wild. I watch as my daughter plays with other kids, and I carry out meaningless conversations with the other mothers, but I feel sick to my stomach. What I really want to do is storm out of the play group and drive home to confront Madison.

  The hour goes by in a blur and I can barely remember anything that happened.

  There’s only one conversation that replays in my mind as I bundle Lea back in the car. I’ll never forget being referred to as Lea’s babysitter.

  If there weren’t so many other weird things happening, I would probably have brushed it off, but this cannot be a coincidence. It’s now clear to me why Madison tried to talk me out of going to the play group, and why she didn’t want me to accompany them to the picnic, if there ever was one.

  Still fuming, I get behind the wheel and pull out my phone to call Anita. My chest tightens when I take in the missed calls on the screen. Twenty-five missed calls, and all of them are from Madison. She also left five voice messages. In each of them she asks where we are and claims she’s worried. Something is clearly wrong with the woman.

  I grip my throat as I call her back. She answers on the first ring and speaks before I do.

  “Why didn’t you answer my calls? And where are you?” she asks, accusing. “I was worried.”

  “Why would you be worried?” I narrow my eyes and my hand tightens around the phone. “You know we were at the play group.”

  “I know, but you could still answer my calls.”

  I consider telling her everything I heard at the play group, but it might be best to confront her face to face, to see her reaction. What I need to do is clear my head before I go home to face her.

  “Let’s talk when I get home. We’ll be out most of the day, but we should be home by dinner.”

  “By dinner?” Her voice is shrill. “Now, you don’t need to be out that long, do you? Lea needs to have her nap.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Madison, but she can sleep in the car.”

  “That’s a terrible idea. You can’t just disrupt her routine like that. You’ll confuse her.” Every word Madison says comes out like a bullet and her breathing is becoming labored.

  “Madison, Lea and I will be spending some time out with friends. We’ll see you in the evening.” I hang up before she says anything else.

  She calls back almost immediately. I resist the temptation to answer any of her calls. Her obsession with my daughter is sickening. Before the day is over, I know I’ll have to make an uncomfortable decision, but deep down I’m terrified of what her reaction will be.

  Chapter 9

  Anita meets us at the Vintage Bean Café. We could have gone to her house, but Madison would undoubtedly see us from next door. She might even come over.

  By the time we settle into our chairs, Lea is already sleeping in her stroller, so Anita and I are able to have an undisturbed discussion.

  “Are you okay, Delia?” Anita leans forward in her chair. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I’ve had a really strange day.” I press my fingers to my eyes.

  “Didn’t you enjoy your time with Lea at the play group?”

  “I thought I would, but then I heard something disturbing.”

  Instead of asking what I’m talking about, Anita only raises an eyebrow.

  “You won’t believe this, but the women there...they all thought I was Lea’s babysitter.”

  “That’s an honest mistake, isn’t it?” Anita rests her chin on her fist.

  I take a sip of my tea and put it down again before I respond. “That’s what I thought at first, but then they told me that Madison introduced herself as Lea’s mother.”

  “You’re kidding.” Anita’s eyes widen. “Why would she do that?”

  “Because I think that’s who she wants to be. She’s trying to push me out of my daughter’s life.”

  “But that’s messed up.” Anita folds her arms. “She really did that?”

  “Yes. Honestly, I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable around her. I don’t think I want her taking care of my daughter anymore.”

  “Will you ask her to leave?”

  “Yes. I can’t trust her around Lea anymore.” I draw in a breath. “I shouldn’t have asked her to move in at all. I think it was a mistake, Anita.”

  “You might be right. In your shoes, I’d probably do the same.” Anita reaches for her cup of coffee and wraps her hands around it. “It’s all my fault.”

  “Why do you say that?” I ask.

  “I’m the one who talked you into getting a nanny and suggested you get one who stayed with you. Then when you told me about the album, I convinced you that it was harmless.”

  “But you wouldn’t have known about her intentions.” I gaze through the windows to the street. People are walking by, carrying on with their lives. “I’ll be honest, right from the start I kind of felt like Madison was too good to be true.”

  “What do you think she’s trying to do?” Anita asks.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. I really don’t. But I can’t let her stay long enough for me to find out.”

  Anita and I finish our drinks in silence and when Lea starts to squirm inside her stroller, we pay and get up to leave.

  Now that I have made a decision about what to do, I feel lighter. I told Madison that we will be home by dinner, but I find myself driving home behind Anita.

  It’s only when I’m close to the house that I remember I did not tell Anita about the many phone calls I got from Madison. She would be as freaked out as I am.

  MADISON IS STANDING at the living room window, right where she was when we left. Even from a distance I can see that her face is sickly green. She probably tried to call me several more times after I switched my phone off.

  There’s something wrong with her. She might even be dangerous.

  As soon as we enter the house, she meets us at the door, stretching out her arms to take Lea from me, as if I’m the nanny and I’m bringing her daughter home to her. I take a step back and hold on tighter to my baby.

  “Give her to me,” she hisses, a vein throbbing in her temple. “I need to give her a bath.”

  “Why did you tell the women at the play group you were Lea’s mother?” I ask.

  She stops in her tracks and glares at me. In her eyes, guilt swirls like a storm. And then they become blank. “I never told them that.”

  “They said you did. I’d like to know why you did it.”

  She shrugs. “I didn’t want Lea to feel like she doesn’t have a mother.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I can’t keep my voice from rising.

  She lets out a snort of laughter. “Well, you haven’t been much of a mother to her. You can’t even take care of her.”

  “That’s not true.” I tighten my arms around Lea, who has started to squirm in discomfort. “Before I hired you, I was not able to take care of my daughter because I was unwell, but now I can. That’s why I need you to pack your things. Tomorrow morning, I want you to leave this house.”

  With that, I walk away from her, holding my baby close.

  LATER IN THE EVENING, Madison walks into the living room where I’m feeding Lea her bottle. Her expression is less serious.

  “I owe you an apology,” she say
s, her lips stretching into a smile. “I didn’t think it would cause such a fuss if I said I was Lea’s mom. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s not just that, Madison. I think you really believe that Lea is your daughter. I saw your photo album.” I’m getting a queasy feeling at the thought of her leaving and keeping all those photos of my child.

  “I’m just—I get too emotionally involved. The kids I take care of...I treat them like my own. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”

  “What do you plan to do with my daughter’s photos?”

  “I wanted to keep them for my memories. I don’t want to forget Lea when I leave.” She wrings her hands together. “I know you probably won’t change your mind about letting me stay, but maybe we could have one last dinner together. I’ll cook. I promise I’ll leave by tomorrow morning. Give me a chance to say goodbye to Lea.”

  “Fine. As long as you leave this house tomorrow.”

  I regret agreeing to eat together. During dinner, the atmosphere is so uncomfortable it makes my stomach cramp with nerves. But I make it through and we say a tense good night to each other.

  Instead of taking Lea to her nursery, I take her to my room and lock the door.

  With all the thoughts running through my head, I’m surprised when I fall asleep not long after Lea closes her eyes.

  Chapter 10

  Iwake up when it’s still dark outside, not because Lea is crying or that I had a nightmare, but because another sound pulled me from sleep. I can’t tell if it’s coming from inside my room or outside the door. I’m also too drowsy to make out what kind of sound it is.

  The room is so dark, I can’t see a thing.

  Panic sweeps through me when I remember that Lea was sleeping with me in my bed. I fell asleep holding her, but I can’t feel her warmth. She’s no longer in my arms. How could I have slept so deeply that I did not feel my daughter slipping away? I search the bed for her with my hands, but my fingers don’t come into contact with her body.

  Feeling disoriented, I flick on the nightlight. I expect to find my daughter on the edge of the bed. She’s not there. I gasp, thinking she must have fallen off. But she’s not on the floor either.

  “Lea.” My parched throat is begging me for water. I always bring a glass of water with me to bed every night because I tend to get thirsty at night. The half full glass is on the nightstand, but I don’t reach for it. I need to find Lea.

  I get to my feet, ignoring the splitting headache that tortures my skull. Standing makes me feel nauseous.

  I pull in a breath to steady myself, then I stumble toward the door, alarm bells ringing inside my head.

  The thought that Madison could have taken Lea sneaks up on me. But it doesn’t make sense. My door was locked.

  When I reach for the door handle, I gasp. The door is unlocked now.

  “Lea,” I call out, choking on my fear as I stumble into the nursery. She’s not inside her crib either, or anywhere in the room.

  “Oh, my God—Madison!” The words barely make it through my tight throat.

  Madison is not in her room. Her bed looks undisturbed, like it hasn’t been slept in at all.

  She took my baby.

  The sound of a car door slamming reaches my ears. Shaking with fear and rage, I tear through the house and down the stairs to the front door.

  Madison’s car engine is running and Lea is in her car seat. My simmering anger boils over. There’s only one reason why she would have Lea with her in the car at 3:00 a.m.

  “What the hell, Madison!” I shout, running on bare feet to the car to open the backseat door. It won’t budge. “Open the door right this minute.”

  Before Madison can drive off with my child, I yank open the passenger seat with so much force that I stumble back. I didn’t expect it to be unlocked.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I bark, my eyes hot with rage.

  “I’m taking Lea for a drive.” Madison doesn’t even look at me. It’s almost as if she’s in some kind of trance. “She wouldn’t stop crying.”

  “That’s nonsense,” I shoot back. “You want to steal my baby.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Her head snaps back and she turns to face me.

  “Don’t lie to me. Her diaper bag is in the back.” I swallow down my fear. I’m actually afraid of her.

  “Step back, Delia. We have to go.” The car vibrates to life.

  “Go to hell. You’re not taking my child.” Like a mother lion, I pull open the back door again and this time it swings open. My hands are shaking as I unfasten Lea’s car seat and grab her while Madison begs me not to. “You’re sick.” I close the door and stand at the open passenger door, cradling Lea’s head. “She’s my child. Not yours.”

  “I treated her like my own child,” she says, crying now. She turns the key in the ignition to kill the engine and leans her head against the steering wheel, her body shaking with sobs.

  I could never have imagined that her obsession with Lea was this bad.

  “How did you get into my room?” For some reason, I need to know.

  Her eyes glow with venom. “Because I know where you keep your extra keys, and since I put a little something in your water, I knew you wouldn’t hear me coming. You don’t deserve that child. A mother who asks someone else to take care of her child should not be a mother in the first place.” Her tears mix with the snot on her face. “Is it any surprise that people think I’m her mother? I’m a better mother to her than you could ever be.”

  “Last time I checked, drugging someone and trying to steal their child is a crime. I’m going to call the police.” I slam the door shut.

  “Go to hell,” she shouts and starts the car again. She drives off so fast the tires squeal, and Lea starts screaming. I hold her close and take her back into the house, still shaken that I came so close to losing her to a deranged woman.

  I find my phone ringing. It’s Anita. She heard the commotion outside. In a few words, I fill her in on what happened.

  “What if she comes back?” I whisper. I’m still trying to comfort Lea.

  “Do you really think she’s dangerous?”

  “Anita, she tried to kidnap my baby. She put God-knows-what in my water so she could sneak into my room while I was passed out. She planned everything.”

  I look at the glass of water on my nightstand. Luckily, I only drank half of it before settling in to sleep. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened if I had drained the glass.

  “Do you want to call the police?”

  “No. Madison belongs in a mental institution, not prison. But if she shows up again, I will. I’m also calling someone to come and change the locks tomorrow in case she made a copy of the house keys.”

  “I think you’re right. She’s sounds a little crazy. You should definitely change the locks. I’ll bring you my key tomorrow so you can toss it.”

  Anita has had our spare key for over two years now. Andrew had given it to her after I had locked myself out of the house one too many times.

  “Thanks.” I glance at Lea, who has fallen asleep in my arms. “I should go. I better get some rest before Lea wakes up for a feeding.” Hopefully the medication in my system is not too strong anymore and I won’t sleep so deep that I won’t hear her crying. I can’t believe I almost lost her.

  “Yes, you should do that. If something else happens and you need to talk, give me a call. Or if you need me to come and help you out with Lea, I’m here.”

  “No, I’m fine. You should get some rest.”

  After the call, I lie awake for a while in the dark, still buzzing with anger, fear, and medication.

  When I finally fall asleep, my nightmares come back to torture me. I don’t dream about the past this time. In my dreams, Madison is back in the house and she’s standing over my bed with a butcher knife.

  Chapter 11

  When Lea and I exit Dr. Dean’s exam room and walk back into the waiting room, I notice a woman standing by the window. Fe
ar grabs me by the throat and squeezes the air from my lungs.

  It’s her. It’s Tina.

  The lush blonde braid that reaches down to her waist, the large golden hoop earrings she loved so much.

  My arms weaken and I have to try hard not to drop Lea, who is crying in my arms.

  A small woman taps me with her cane. “Do you plan on just standing there?”

  “Sorry,” I murmur and step aside. My gaze returns to the spot Tina was standing. She’s no longer there. It was all in my head.

  Madison left two weeks ago, and I’m back to living on little sleep. If I was struggling before she entered our lives, now I’m a complete mess. The house is too. I don’t even remember the last time I picked up the vacuum cleaner.

  Holding on to a restless Lea, I wade through the thick, humid air to my car. Five minutes feels like an hour.

  People are staring at me. I know what they see. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way out the door this morning. My hair is a bird’s nest on top of my head, my eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and my skin has lost its color. I didn’t have the strength to put on makeup.

  By the time I arrive at the parking lot, my head is pounding from listening to Lea’s cries.

  As I settle behind the wheel, tears trickling down my own cheeks, I want to tell my daughter that everything will be all right. But I can’t bring the lie to cross my lips. I’m coming undone and it’s affecting my baby. How can I create a good life for us when I’m sleep-walking through it?

  Ray called me yesterday to check up on me and ask if I would be ready to return to work in three weeks. I told him yes, but how will I be able to hold down a job when I’m incapable of completing even the smallest tasks?

  I’m surprised when I make it home in one piece. I barely leave the house these days because I’m afraid of falling asleep behind the wheel.