Night, Forgotten

Original Edition - Chapter 30: Now

It doesn't feel quite the same as waking up. I breathe in deeply, letting myself forget who I've become, just for a moment before I open my eyes. Owen and I always used to have cinnamon rolls on Sundays. This morning, he must be making them special for Sadie.

Sadie.

I sit straight up in bed as the events of last night come crashing back to me. Where is Sadie? I need to find her, to get our story straight. There's so much I can't explain to myself. Once I talk with Sadie and find out what she knows, I can get Owen's help to sort through all the strange shit that's been going on and try to come up with a plan. A plan to do what, I have no idea.

To protect the baby, I guess. To protect us all.

Sadie's sweet, high-pitched giggle rises through the floorboards and I realize I've missed my chance to talk with her alone. Everyone except me is already awake and downstairs, having breakfast.

I'm just going to have to tell Owen and Diana the whole truth about last night, even if there's no way to do that without sounding psychotic. Assuming Sadie has already done the same thing, they might already have more information than I do.

I'll tell them how someone stole Thomas and hid him in the shed. If Sadie hadn't been visiting overnight, who knows if the baby's screams would even have woken me up? When I found him out there, we got shut inside with... was it with whoever took him? It must have been the same person who stole him from out of our bed. From between me and Owen.

At this point, it will break my heart if Owen and Diana don't listen. I don't know what could possibly be going on, but before we can figure that out, the two of them have got to start taking me seriously. If Thomas's life is in danger, they have to help me protect him. I cannot be the only one responsible for keeping him safe.

The bedside clock indicates that it's late in the morning, but the sky outside is dark and shifts ominously. Rain gently patters against the bedroom window. It's started up again.

It's raining, it's pouring. Sadie will have to play indoors today.

The sugary smell of cinnamon rolls grows stronger as I descend the staircase. Up from the kitchen rise the sounds of Owen and Diana enjoying a leisurely breakfast. The baby's aimless babbling blends into a syncopated rhythm with the drip, drip of percolating coffee.

Sadie's voice whines, "I need another brown... Diana?" "Yes, Honey?" Diana answers.

"Another brown. For the roof." She must be coloring with crayons at the table.

Rather than head straight into the kitchen when I reach the bottom of the stairs, I step into the parlor to check on Thomas. Owen will have changed his diaper and fed him already.

My heart quickens as I approach the crib.

I don't remember drying the baby off or cleaning him up when we came inside last night, and the thought that I might have neglected those tasks horrifies me. What kind of terrible condition was he in when Owen found him this morning?

After all, last night he was flailing on the floor of the shed, naked and shivering.

Wasn't he? Or had Sadie been holding him in a bundle on the porch the whole time? She must have been. Because he couldn't have gotten all the way from the shed to Sadie's arms on his own.

Diana's voice floats into the parlor through the cold hearth. "Here, Honey, try this one." I imagine her rifling through the enormous box of crayons, selecting the perfect shade of brown for her goddaughter, and looking down the slope of her nose to read the label aloud. "It's called... huh. It's called Sienna. That's a pretty name for a color, isn't it?"