I exhale and let go of all this police nonsense. “I have you, right? I mean, as long as you can help me. I just can’t…” I motion to the police station. “I can’t hand him over. Like you said, if we can just figure out who he is, then I can find his parents. It could lead us to Jackson.” I blink up at him, concocting a crystal-clear image in my head. “Even if you don’t one hundred percent believe me, what if I’m right? Think about that, Jake. What if I’m right?” I tug on his sleeve like a child. “I have to do this. I can’t waste any more time.”

“Dammit, Rebecca.” Finally, he speaks, and I know I’ve got him. I know he’ll help. “You want to keep this baby for the night, then you’re going to have to lie. You’re going to have to say you were confused. You’re basically going to have to hang yourself.”

I nod. “I don’t care.” But I know the ramifications. I know what it will seem like to the community. But this is about more than the community. This is about getting Jackson back above all else—and the police not taking this baby away too.

“You realize Toby will see right through this,” he adds.

“But he can’t legally take him, right? If I’m claiming he’s mine?”

“No, not legally.” He slaps his palm against the automatic door button. “Come on, Dead Man Walking. Let’s get you inside.”

The door stalls then cranks open. On the walk to Toby’s office, I rewrite my story. I’m a widow. I’m confused. I must have been mistaken.

“Toby?” Jake knocks on the door. “Rebecca has something she wants to say.”

I open my mouth, but I’m not sure where to start. Do I just come right out and say it? I refrain from drumming my fingers on the desk. Air-conditioning pours in cold, recycled air from ceiling vents. The mood shifts in the room while he waits.

I channel every bit of high school drama I can remember and rearrange my face to a look of sheer remorse. “I made a mistake.” A stab of fear inserts itself right between my ribs. I lick my lips, swallow. I lightly touch the baby. “This is Jackson.” The lie twists deeper. My voice is robotic, flat. “I think…” I look to Jake, this new plan concocted on the fly. “I think I just wanted attention. I just wanted to…”

“Wait.” Toby’s voice is tinged with skepticism. “Are you trying to say your son isn’t missing now?”

No, no, no. Don’t say it! My conscience rebels against my plan, but I close my eyes and nod. “I made a mistake.”