Chapter 1 - The Crescent Mark
That was when the baby shifted, the blanket slipped away from his face, and I saw something that made every breath leave my body.
Just below the infant’s tiny right ear, resting on the curve of the collarbone, was a birthmark.
It was shaped like a perfect, pale crescent moon.
My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a gasp.
I had that exact same mark on my own collarbone.
My mother had borne the same mark before she passed away, and her mother before her.
It was a genetic quirk, a silent signature of the women in my family.
But I had never given birth.
I took a step backward, my heel catching the edge of the thick Persian rug.
I stumbled, knocking a heavy silver picture frame off the nightstand.
The glass shattered against the hardwood floor with a deafening crash.
Eric bolted upright in bed, gasping as he scrambled to make sense of the noise.
"Julia?" he croaked, his voice thick with sleep and confusion. "What are you doing here?"
Before I could answer, the baby startled awake and began to wail.
A high, piercing cry filled the bedroom, bouncing off the vaulted ceilings.
Eric’s eyes went wide as saucers as he turned to look at the infant beside him.
"Eric," I said, my voice trembling so violently I barely recognized it. "Whose baby is this?"
He stared at the crying child, then at me, his face completely drained of color.
"I... I don't know," he stammered, pulling the sheets up to his chest. "I swear to God, Jules, I don't know."
"You expect me to believe a baby materialized in our bed while you were sleeping?"
"I went to sleep alone!" he yelled, throwing the covers off and rushing to my side. "I didn't hear anyone come in!"
"Don't touch me," I snapped, stepping away from his outstretched hands.
"Jules, please," he begged. "Look at the security system. The alarm is still armed."
I glanced at the digital panel on the wall near the door.
The glowing red light confirmed the house was locked down.
"Then how did a child get in here, Eric?"
"I'm calling the police," he said, grabbing his phone from the nightstand.
As he dialed, I walked back over to the bed, my eyes locked on the crying baby.
Tucked beneath the blue blanket was a folded piece of white stationary.
I pulled it out with shaking fingers.
"What is that?" Eric asked, holding the phone to his ear.
I unfolded the paper.
May you like
Written in elegant, cursive handwriting were four chilling words.
She belongs to you.
