CHAPTER 4
Naomi heldher breath as she listened to the voice on the other end of the line. Sissy Sutton sounded frantic, her words tumbling over one another so fast Naomi could hardly understand what she was saying.
Everything had been a blur over the past two days.
Millie’s ex had been arrested. Millie had been brought on as staff. Madelyn had come just yesterday as their newest guest.
Life continued forward.
There was a hitching inhale on the other end of the line. Then another.
Then the rush of words continued, only slightly less chaotic. “They’re here. They’rehere, Naomi. They won’t tell me where they’re taking her, and I told them she’s only two days old. They don’t care?—”
“Who isthey?” Naomi’s heart pounded harder as pieces tried to click into place.
“The feds,” Sissy whispered. “They showed up in my room a few hours ago and said they’re arresting me. They’re taking my baby, Naomi. Please, stop them. Don’t let them do this.”
The world narrowed until only this conversation existed.
“Okay.” Naomi forced calm into her voice, even as panic clawed up her spine. “Okay, Sissy. Listen to me. Where is your aunt? You said she was coming up from Atlanta to help you.”
There was a short, broken laugh. “She was. Until a few hours ago. She heard what was happening and said she couldn’t be involved. She said I made my choices, and now I need to reap the consequences. She won’t even answer my calls anymore.”
Naomi pressed her eyes closed. She understood how complicated family relationships could be. Things were rarely as simple as they seemed on the surface.
“Please,” Sissy whispered, the word cracking in half. “Please don’t let them put my baby in foster care. I was in foster care. I know what it’s like. She’s so innocent. She didn’t do anything wrong.”
Naomi’s hand tightened around the phone as what Sissy was asking hit her.
“I can’t let them take my baby.” Sissy’s voice climbed again. “But I don’t have anyone else to call. Only you. You said Refuge Cove helps women. How about little girls? Do they help little girls also?”
“Sissy,” Naomi said. “Listen to me. I need you to tell me exactly what they’re saying. Are the feds therenow?”
“Yes,” Sissy sobbed. “They’re waiting. They said I have to decide who she goes to or they will.”
Naomi’s breath caught.
“Naomi,” Sissy whispered. “Please. Just take care of her until I can get this sorted out. Just until I can prove I’m innocent. You can help me, right? You can keep her safe. You always keep people safe. I know we’ve had our differences. I know I did something horrible to you and your family. But I know I can trust you.”
Naomi stared at the familiar shape of the white and black farmhouse. At the place her sister had built.
Her sister. Sarah . . .
This baby’s father was the man who murdered Sarah.
Her chest tightened.
“Naomi?” Sissy’s voice squeaked. “Say something. Please, say something.”
Naomi swallowed hard, the weight of the question settling into her bones.
Could she really take responsibility for the child of the man who had destroyed their family?
Could she hold this baby, protect her, and love her—all while knowing whose blood ran through the child’s veins?
Naomi continued to stare at the farmhouse, at the shelter meant to stand between danger and the vulnerable.
Her heart pounded as the answer pressed in on her from all sides.
