Red Lily

now, or mine. She won’t walk out of it and leave this undone. Any more than you, or I, or any or us.” He glanced around the room. “So we finish it.”
    Logic, even truth, didn’t settle Harper’s anger, or his worry. “You didn’t see her after it happened.”
    “No, but I’ve got the gist from what you told me. She matters to me, too, Harper. To all of us.”
    “All for one, great. I’m for it.” His gaze shifted to the parlor doors, and his mind traveled upstairs, to Hayley. “But she’s the one on the line.”
    “Agreed.” Mitch leaned forward in his chair to draw Harper’s attention back to him. “Let’s look at what happened for a minute. Hayley was taken through childbirth, and a traumatic aftermath when Amelia was told the baby was dead. And she went through this while she was napping with Lily. But Lily wasn’t disturbed. That tells me that there’s no intent to harm or even frighten the baby. If there were, how long do you think it would take Hayley to head out that door?”
    “That may be true, but to get whatever it is she wants, Amelia’s going to keep using Hayley, and using her hard.”
    “I agree.” Mitch nodded. “Because it works. Becausethis way she’s feeding us information we might not ever be able to find. We know now that not only was her child taken from her, but that she was told, cruelly, that it was dead. It’s hardly a wonder that her mind, which already seemed to be somewhat imbalanced, shattered.”
    “We can assume she came here for him,” Logan suggested. “And died here.”
    “Well, the kid’s dead, too. Dead as she is, dead as disco.” Harper slumped into a chair. “She’s not going to find him here.”
    U PSTAIRS , H AYLEY WOKE from a light doze. The curtains were pulled so the light was dim but for a thin chink. She saw Roz sitting, reading a book in that narrow spear of light.
    “Lily.”
    Roz set the book aside and rose. “Stella has her. She took her and the boys over to the other wing to play so you’d have some quiet. How are you feeling?”
    “Exhausted. A little raw inside yet.” But she sighed, comforted when Roz sat and stroked her hair. “It was harder than when I had Lily, rougher and longer. I know it was only a few minutes, really, but it seemed like hours. Hours and hours of pain and heat. Then this awful muzzy feeling toward the end. They gave her something, and it made her kind of float away, but it was almost worse.”
    “Laudanum, I imagine. Nothing like a shot of opiate.”
    “I heard the baby cry.” Struggling to relax, Hayley curled on her side, tilting her head up to keep Roz in her line of sight. “You know how it is, no matter what’s gone on in those hours before, everything inside you rising up when you hear your baby cry the first time.”
    “Hers.” Roz took Hayley’s hand. “Not yours.”

    “I know, I know, but for that instant he was mine. And that horrible tearing grief, that crazy disbelief when the doctor said it was stillborn, that was mine, too.”
    “I’ve never lost a child,” Roz told her. “I can’t even imagine the pain of it.”
    “They lied to her, Roz. I guess he paid them, too. They lied, but she knew. She heard the baby cry, and she knew. It drove her crazy.”
    Roz shifted on the bed, angling so she could rest Hayley’s head on her lap. And sat in silence, staring at that thin lance of light through the curtains.
    “She didn’t deserve it,” Hayley started.
    “No. She didn’t deserve it.”
    “Whatever she was, whatever she did, she didn’t deserve to be treated that way. She loved the baby, but . . .”
    “But what?”
    “It wasn’t right, the way she loved it. It wasn’t a healthy sort of thing. She wouldn’t have been a good mother.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I felt . . .” Obsession, she thought, hunger. Impossible to describe the vastness of it. “It had to be a boy, you see? A girl wouldn’t have mattered to her. A girl wouldn’t have been just a disappointment, but an outrage. And if she’d had the boy and kept it, she would’ve twisted it. Not on purpose, but he wouldn’t have been the man he was. He wouldn’t have been the one who loved his dog and buried it with a marker, and loved your grandmother. And none of this would be the way it is.”
    She turned her head so that she could look up at Roz. “You, Harper. Nothing would be the same. But it doesn’t make it right. It still doesn’t make what happened right.”
    “Wouldn’t it