Cutler 01 - Dawn

child, I thought. Momma wouldn't have let someone force her to go to the funeral of her missing child.
    It was all so strange.
    "If I was so small, wasn't it dangerous for them to kidnap me?" I asked.
    "Oh, sure. That's why Grandmother Cutler insisted you were probably dead," she replied quickly.
    "If you had a sleep-in nurse, how did they get me anyway?" I still couldn't believe I was talking about something terrible Daddy and Momma had done.
    "I don't remember all the details," Mother said and rubbed her forehead. "My headache's coming back. Probably because you forced me to recall so many horrible memories."
    "I'm sorry, Mother," I said. "But I have to know." She nodded and sighed.
    "But let's not talk about it anymore," she suggested and smiled. "You're here now; you've been returned. The horror is behind us."
    "The monument is still there," I said, remembering what Sissy had told me.
    "Oh, dear, how morbid you can be."
    "Why did they steal me, Mother?"
    "No one has told you that?" She looked at me slyly, her head tilted. "Grandmother Cutler didn't tell you?"
    "No," I said. My heart paused. "I was afraid to ask her anything like that."
    Mother nodded understandingly.
    "Sally Longchamp had just given birth to a stillborn baby. They simply substituted you for the dead baby.
    "That's another reason why Grandmother Cutler wants your name changed so much, I guess."
    "What is?" I asked, my voice so weak it was barely audible.
    "Not many people remember anymore. Randolph never knew. I just happened to know because . . . I just happened to know. And of course your grandmother knew. There wasn't much she didn't know if it happened anywhere near or on the hotel grounds," she added acridly.
    "What?" I repeated.
    "The dead Longchamp baby was a girl, too. And they were going to name it Dawn."
     
    I could see there wasn't much point to my continuing to plead for my mother to intercede between me and my grandmother. Mother's attitude was to do what Grandmother Cutler wanted because in the long run that was the easiest route to take. She told me that somehow Grandmother Cutler always managed to get her way anyway. It was futile to fight.
    Of course, I didn't agree. The things she had told me about Momma and Daddy and my kidnapping left me stunned. No matter how terrible it must have been for Momma to give birth to a stillborn, it was still horrible of them to steal me from my real parents. What they had done was selfish and cruel, and when my mother described my father crying in the doorway, my heart ached for him.
    I returned to my little room and plopped down on the bed to stare up at the ceiling. It had begun to rain, another summer storm rushing in from the ocean. The staccato beats on the building and windows were military drums to take me into dreams, into night-mares, to exactly where I didn't want to go. I envisioned Momma and Daddy sneaking up the stairs at night when everyone was asleep. Although I had not met her, I imagined Nurse Dalton dead asleep in the nursery suite, perhaps her back to the door. I pictured Daddy tiptoeing into the suite and scooping me up in his arms. Perhaps I had just started to cry when he handed me to Momma, who pressed me dearly to her bosom and kissed my cheeks, giving me the sense of comfort and security again.
    Then, with me wrapped firmly in my blanket, they stole down the stairs and through the corridor outside my room to the rear door. Once out in the night they easily made their way to their awaiting vehicle, with infant Jimmy asleep in the backseat, unaware that he was soon to have a new sister.
    In moments they were all in the car and off into the night.
    I pressed my eyelids tightly shut when I then imagined Nurse Dalton finding the crib empty. I saw my parents come rushing out of their room, my grandmother charging out of hers. Philip was awakened by the shouting and sat up terrified. Surely, he had to be comforted, too.
    The hotel was in an uproar. My grandmother was shouting orders at everyone. Lights were snapped on, the police were called, staff members were ordered out and about the grounds. Moments after the little beach town of Cutler's Cove came to life, all the inhabitants discovered what had happened. Sirens were sounded. Police cars were everywhere. But it was too late. Momma and Daddy were some distance away by then, and I, just a few days old, didn't know the difference.
    My heart felt as if it would split in two. The ache traveled up and down my spine. Maybe I