I tried to analyze it separately to see if it made sense. She believed it was me, that I had taken her child. She did seem extra suspicious of me, and perhaps it was an unlucky coincidence that her son went missing the moment I came back to town, but that was all it was, a coincidence. I hadn’t even known she had a son. And the thing with her father…she thought I was working for him, that he had sent me to come to take her child. I guess that was reasonable since she knew nothing about me. Now I just had to figure out who her father was, and the mystery of why she thought I was such a bad guy would be solved.
“Who’s your father?” I asked again, and she sighed in frustration.
“Are you going to play this game with me right now?” she asked, anger making her voice shake. “I told you, I don’t have time for this. Just give me back my son.”
“Hon, I don’t have your son, but let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I do have him, and I’m working for someone. What would his name be?”
She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and stared at me. I kept my expression open and non-evasive so she would see that I had nothing to hide.
Before she could answer, her phone rang, and she picked it up frantically. “Hello?”
She listened for a few seconds. I glanced over and saw that her expression eased as she sagged back against the chair.
“Oh, thank God,” she said, and I could hear the tears in her voice. “Thank God.”
She listened for a few more seconds, then nodded. “Alright, I’m on my way.”
After she hung up, she glanced at me and said, “We’re heading to the police station.”
It took us a few minutes to get there. When we arrived, we rushed in to find only one policeman in the entire building, and his hands were cradling a baby.
Kayla ran to them, grabbed the baby from his arms, and held him tightly. “Oh, God. My baby. Oh, God.”
I walked closer, greeted the officer, and glanced at the boy. At first sight of the boy, shock slammed into me like a freight train.
The baby had blonde locks and hazel eyes with flecks of gold in them. When he smiled, dimples appeared on his cheeks, not dissimilar to mine. And most damning of all was the birthmark on his neck, a little half-moon shape that dotted the spot next to his clavicle—the exact spot where my brother had a similar mark.
“Holy shit.” It seemed impossible to think about, but I couldn’t deny the obvious resemblance.
Kayla glanced back at me, her eyes wide with horror and guilt.
“He’s my son!” I exclaimed.