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She ducked into the bedroom and slammed the door but I shoved it open hard enough that it bounced off the wall. She backed up toward the bed still holding Seth who was screaming so loud it hurt my ears. I lunged and she twisted away but the knife caught the side of her shirt tearing it and nicking her side. Blood soaked through the fabric. She placed Seth in the middle of the bed, grabbed a heavy ceramic lamp off the bedside table with her uninjured hand, and swung it wildly. It cracked me across the head with a sickening thud. Pain exploded white hot behind my eyes. The world tilted. I saw her face for one second, terrified and desperate, then everything went black.

I didn’t wake up until I heard the police.

Voices shouting. Radios crackling. Heavy boots on the floor.

My head throbbed so bad I could barely think. Cold metal pressed tight around my wrists. Handcuffs. I felt them before I even opened my eyes. Someone was pulling me up by the arms. My legs were weak and everything spun. I blinked slowly trying to make sense of the light and the noise. The bedroom came back in pieces. Broken lamp on the floor. Blood on the carpet. Officers moving around me. One of them had a firm grip on my elbow keeping me upright.

My senses came back slowly. The metallic taste in my mouth. The ache in my skull. The way my shoulders burned from how my arms were pinned behind my back. I heard a baby crying somewhere in the house and my stomach dropped.

Luke.

Then I heard another voice that I knew better than my own.

Richard.

He was here.

I turned my head toward the sound and saw him as the officers pulled me through the hallway and out the front door. Relief flooded through me so fast I almost cried.

“Richie!” I shouted while the officers held me. “Tell them! Please! Tell them!”

He walked right past me without even a glance. Samantha sat near the curb with Seth in her arms while paramedics treated her bleeding arm. Richard knelt beside her and checked Seth.

Luke was still crying inside the house.

One officer turned to Richard. “Mr. Kincaid, is that your child?”

“Yes,” Richard answered.

He went inside and returned carrying Luke. He never looked at me once.

The officer asked if he was willing to take custody of the baby. Richard agreed immediately.

By then, the paramedics had secured a bandage around Samantha’s arm and were preparing to take her to the hospital. Richard lowered himself onto the curb beside her, Luke cradled against his chest.

Samantha stared at the baby. Her gaze moved over Luke’s face before lifting to Richard. She looked back at Luke, then down at Seth in her arms.

I watched the realization hit her.

She shook her head and pulled Seth closer against her chest. When Richard reached for her, she jerked away from him so quickly that one of the paramedics stepped forward.

I couldn’t hear what she said to Richard. But when he answered, she broke.

A sob tore out of her as she covered her mouth. Tears streamed down her face while she stared at Luke, then Richard, then Luke again. She was shaking so badly that the paramedic crouched beside her and reached for Seth, but Samantha wouldn’t let him go.

Richard tried to move closer. She shoved him away. Tears filled her eyes as she looked between the two boys. She covered her mouth, struggling to breathe while the truth registered.

The officer beside me pulled me toward the police car, but I twisted around to keep watching.

Two little boys.

Both his.

One in his arms.

One in hers.

I watched it all as the officers guided me toward the cruiser. My head still swam, and the handcuffs cut into my wrists with every step. Richard never acknowledged me. He remained beside Samantha while gently rocking Luke.