“Hello?” I whisper. I tap my cane on the surface and confirm it’s clear. Instead of sitting, I walk around to the other side. My fingers curl around the bench’s back. I inch forward and replay the scene from earlier. All of the other strollers were situated in a neat row right here—the smooth, curved hoods, the wide, open bassinets practically touching. I stop where Jackson’s was and then drop to my hands and knees. I swipe under the bench, cradling the baby in the carrier with one hand, and plunge my hand across the sticky turf. I don’t know what I’m searching for, but my hand closes on nothing. I sit back on my heels and think.

Even though I fainted, I was still aware of sounds … the sounds of the park. Children. Mothers. Bells.

That’s it. I brace a hand against the turf and re-extend my cane. I recall where I heard the sound—off to the left, toward the trees—and set off in that direction. I hunt for the bells, knowing what a longshot it would be to actually find them, but that would be proof. Proof that someone took him. Proof that my baby took off with a stranger and I’m not imagining that this child in my arms is different. To confirm, I feel this baby’s ankle, which is bare.

Or proof that the bells just fell off again before I made it to the park. I sigh, defeated at my own logical thinking, but I keep searching anyway. I walk around the playground in a tidy grid, tears dampening my cheeks. If I could just see, I’d know exactly what I was looking for. If I could just see, I could prove to the world this child isn’t Jackson.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I activate VoiceOver.

I’m here. Where are you?

“Oh shit.” I turn back toward the entrance of the park and rattle off a text.

Be right there.

The walk back is quick and hot. The baby is surprisingly quiet the faster I walk. I’m sweating when I reach the driveway.

“Bec?” Jake seems confused.

I lift my hands, drop them, and fumble with my keys. “I know you said to stay here, but I had to go to the park. I had to see if there was something I missed from earlier.” The tears aren’t even dry on my cheeks before a fresh round comes. “A clue. Something to explain what’s happened.”

He pulls me into his arms and shushes me, careful not to crush the baby. “Let’s go inside and we’ll figure this out, okay?” He removes the keys from my hands, but before he unlocks the door, he tilts my chin up to the porch light. “Did this happen when you fell?”

I self-consciously touch my eye. “It did.”