Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

bend in the driveway.
    The cold winds of autumn lifted my hair and made it dance over my forehead. I embraced myself and turned to go back into the hotel, the sight of the diamond engagement ring on my finger filling me with warmth and hope.
    The combination of the excitement and the sadness in saying good-bye to Jimmy left me very tired and eager to go upstairs and take a nap alongside Christie. I walked up the stairs slowly, not thinking of anything at all, my eyes half closed. When I entered the room I went directly to Christie's crib. I wanted to place her beside me on the bed and sleep with her cradled in my arms. But when I leaned over to get her, I found she wasn't there.
    For a moment it didn't register in my mind. It was as if my eyes were playing practical jokes on me. I actually smiled in disbelief, closed my eyes and opened them. That didn't help. Christie was gone!
    Mrs. Boston must have taken her somewhere, I thought. My heart began to pound. No, it did more than pound; it thumped sharply, as if it were trying to break out of my chest. I lost my breath, and for a few seconds I stood there gasping. Then I caught hold of myself, forced myself to stay calm and left the room to go down to find Mrs. Boston. I didn't find her in her room. I finally found her in the kitchen talking to Nussbaum, the chef. They both turned as I came walking briskly toward them. I was sure my face was terribly flushed. I felt as if my skin were on fire. I could barely speak.
    "What is it, Dawn?" Mrs. Boston asked, seeing the wild look in my eyes. She didn't have Christie in her arms and wouldn't have brought her in here anyway.
    "Christie . . ." I had to swallow before I could continue. "Christie's missing," I said, and my tears burst forth, charging out of my eyes like water crashing through a weakened dam.
    "Vot are you sayin'?" Nussbaum asked.
    "Missing?" Mrs. Boston said. She shook her head. "There must be some mistake."
    "No, no mistake. She's not in her crib," I cried.
    "Here, here," Nussbaum said, embracing me. "I'm sure she's all right." He shifted his eyes quickly to Mrs. Boston, whose face now registered some deep concern.
    "Let's go up," she said sharply. I followed her out, and we hurried through the corridor and up the stairs. Once again I confronted an empty crib. Mrs. Boston shook her head.
    "I don't understand," she said. "I left her not twenty minutes ago. She was sleeping so soundly."
    "Oh, no," I said, no longer able to stay in control. Christie was gone. She was really gone! "Oh, no!" I screamed. I screamed so loud and so shrilly, it brought Mother out of her suite.
    "What is it?" she demanded, giving me an annoyed look. "It's the baby," Mrs. Boston said. "She's gone. Someone's taken the baby."
    Those words turned my mother's face into a mask of horror. Her mouth contorted, and her eyes seemed to sink deeper into her skull even as they grew larger and larger, her pupils dilating with fear. She had heard those words before, of course, when I had been taken, only then she had had to pretend. It was as if she had been thrown back through time and made to relive it. She shook her head and backed away.
    "No," she said. "It must be . . . must be, a mistake. This can't be happening. Not again. I can't deal with this. Why can there never be any happiness in this cursed place?" she muttered, and she ran from the room.
    "Let's get help," Mrs. Boston said.
    I couldn't keep myself from shaking. Jimmy had just left me, just when I needed him the most, I thought. Oh, please, please, God, don't let Christie be gone. Not again. Not to have the same fate I had. Could my mother be right? Was this place cursed? It seemed like a cruel joke fate wanted to pull over and over. I smothered my tears and followed Mrs. Boston out of the room. We charged down the stairs to the lobby, where she gathered the staff around us.
    "Someone's taken Christie from her crib," she announced. "We need everyone in the hotel lookin'."
    Everyone was equally shocked and concerned. The bellhops fanned out. The receptionists joined the search. Dining room staff members who were relaxing in the lobby took the outside and circled the hotel. As more and more people found out what was happening, the search party enlarged until it involved almost everyone in the hotel.
    Philip, who had been in the card room playing poker with some of the dining room staff, came running.
    "The baby's actually missing?" he asked. I could only nod. I sat on a soft chair and