Page 90 of Ruthless Serenade

My world tilts on its axis. "But... what are you talking about? I’m Sharon’s mother!" My voice rises to a pitch I barely recognize.

"Miss Williams, I’m afraid... whoever picked up your daughter this morning, they had compelling replicas of your identification and all your personal information. It seems that our staff thought this woman was you."

What?

No!

My legs give out without warning, and I slam against the wall for support. The fluorescent lights overhead start to spin, merging into a nauseating blur. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision as the reality of what he’s saying crashes over me.

My baby!

Someone took my baby!

They walked right in here pretending to be me and just... took her? The thought of Sharon, confused and scared, being led away by some stranger makes bile rise in my throat. Mr. Hoppy sits abandoned in that empty room - did she cry for him? Did she ask for me?

"I am so sorry, Miss Williams. We contacted the police and they are doing everything to find your daughter."

I can’t form words anymore. Panic tears through my body with such force it feels like I’m about to fall apart. My baby. My precious baby girl. The hallway echoes around us with the sound of a mother’s heart breaking.

Maron.

"Will you excuse me for a minute, Doctor?" My voice emerges as a broken whisper.

My fingers tremble so violently I can barely scroll through my contacts, but I find his name. I must speak to him. He may not want to see me again, but none of that matters now. Nothing matters except our daughter.

I press his name and hold the phone to my ear, my whispered plea desperate and raw. "Please pick up, Maron."

Six rings. Then his voicemail. His deep, commanding voice telling me to leave a message feels like a mockery.

Fuck!

I hit redial, my hand shaking so badly I nearly drop the phone. Each unanswered ring is like a knife in my chest as I pace the sterile hallway like a caged animal. "Come on, Maron," I plead into the silence. "This is about Sharon!"

Nothing.

A sob rips from my throat, primal and broken. The urge to hurl my phone against the wall is almost overwhelming. Of course, he won’t answer. He doesn’t want to talk to me. He’s punishing me for not telling him about his daughter.

The bitter irony crushes what’s left of my composure. The most powerful man in the city, the only person who could move heaven and earth to find our little girl, won’t pick up his damn phone. I slide down the wall, my legs finally giving out completely, as the horrible truth settles over me like a shroud.

I am completely, utterly alone.

And somewhere out there, Sharon needs me.

Chapter Forty-Two

Mindy

The buzz of my phone jolts me from my spiral of despair.

Maron!

It has to be Maron!

My fingers fumble through my pockets, desperate and clumsy, until I finally grasp the phone. But the hope dies in my chest when I see "Unknown Number" flashing on the screen. With trembling hands, I answer. "Hello?"

"We have your daughter." The woman’s voice is unfamiliar and as cold as a morgue slab.

My blood turns to ice. My heart feels like it’s been seized by an invisible fist, squeezing it until I can barely breathe. This can’t be happening. This is the stuff of nightmares, of late-night news stories about other people’s tragedies. Not my baby. Not my Sharon. Bile rises in my throat and I have to swallow hard to keep myself from retching right there in the hallway.

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