Chapter 1

Sarah Miller walked back into the Chicago office of "Innovate Solutions," her marketing specialist nameplate gleaming on her cubicle.

The scent of stale coffee and printer toner was familiar, a world away from the baby powder and soft lullabies that had filled her last few months.

Her maternity leave was over.

It felt strange, like stepping back into a life she' d paused.

She smiled at a few familiar faces, ready to dive back into spreadsheets and campaign strategies.

Normalcy. That' s what she craved.

A woman Sarah vaguely recognized from accounting, older, with a severe haircut and a perpetually sour expression, approached her desk.

Her name was Brenda, Sarah recalled, though they'd never spoken much.

Brenda didn't smile.

"Sarah Miller?" Brenda asked, her voice raspy.

"Yes, that's me," Sarah replied, offering a polite, if hesitant, smile.

"I hear you just had a baby. You're breastfeeding, right?"

The question was abrupt, personal. Sarah felt a flicker of unease.

"Yes, I am," Sarah confirmed, wondering where this was going.

"Good," Brenda said, her eyes intense. "I need your breast milk."

Sarah blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"My son, Kevin. He needs it. Directly from you. On demand."

Sarah stared, speechless for a moment.

This had to be some kind of bizarre office prank.

"You want me to... breastfeed your son?" Sarah asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The request was so far outside the realm of normal workplace interactions, Sarah struggled to process it.

"Yes," Brenda stated, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. "He's nineteen."

Nineteen.

The word hit Sarah like a physical blow.

"Your nineteen-year-old son?" Sarah repeated, her mind reeling. "I... I don't understand."

She thought of her own tiny infant, the intimacy of nursing.

The idea of a grown man... it was grotesque.

"Are you serious?" Sarah asked, her voice rising slightly.

Brenda' s expression hardened.

"He has significant developmental disabilities," Brenda explained, her tone sharp, defensive.

"The doctors, they don't know anything. But I've done my research. Breast milk is the key. Pure, fresh. It has antibodies, nutrients. It will cure him. It has to be direct for optimal nutrient absorption."

Cure him?

Sarah felt a wave of nausea.

This wasn't just odd; it was deeply disturbing.

The woman's eyes held a fanatic gleam.

"Brenda," Sarah began, trying to keep her voice calm, polite. "I appreciate you sharing this with me, but I'm afraid I can't help you. That's... that's not something I can do."

She tried to offer a sympathetic but firm smile.

"I pump milk for my own baby, and I can barely keep up with his needs. I certainly can't provide for anyone else, especially not... not in that way."

She hoped that would be the end of it.

Brenda' s face contorted with anger.

"Can't? Or won't?" she hissed. "You selfish little thing. You have what my son needs, and you're hoarding it."

The sudden shift in demeanor was startling.

Sarah recoiled. "It's not about being selfish. It's about boundaries. What you're asking is completely inappropriate."

Later that day, in the office pantry, Brenda cornered Sarah again.

"You'll change your mind," Brenda snarled, her eyes narrowed.

"No, I won't," Sarah said, trying to step around her.

Brenda grabbed Sarah' s arm, her fingers digging in painfully. "You will give my Kevin what he needs!"

Sarah cried out, yanking her arm free. "Get away from me!"

Brenda' s grip was surprisingly strong.

"He needs that milk!" Brenda insisted, her voice rising, her face flushed.

Sarah felt a surge of adrenaline, a mix of fear and anger.

"I said no!" Sarah repeated, her voice trembling slightly but firm.

She pushed past Brenda, her heart pounding.

The older woman was unhinged.