Chapter 1

Sarah clutched the worn teddy bear, its fur matted from her own childhood tears, now a small comfort as she prepared. Today, she would get Lily back. Her postpartum depression had been a dark fog, but it was lifting, slowly, painfully. Mark, her husband, had used it as a weapon, declaring her unfit, sending their toddler Lily to live with Tiffany, his ex-girlfriend. The thought of Mark still sent a shiver down her spine, not of fear, but of a cold, hard anger she was just beginning to recognize.

He was the son of the wealthy Hamilton family, a family that had saved her father, David, from financial ruin by orchestrating this marriage. A deal. That' s all it had ever been.

Maria, the kind-hearted housekeeper in Mark' s sterile mansion, gave Sarah a hesitant smile as she passed in the hallway. Maria knew things, saw things. Her unspoken sympathy was a tiny island in Sarah's ocean of isolation. "You look better today, Mrs. Hamilton," Maria said softly. Sarah managed a weak smile, "I'm going to get Lily." Hope, fragile and new, flickered within her.

The memory was sharp, a shard of glass in her mind. Mark' s cold voice, "You're not well, Sarah. Tiffany will take care of Lily until you are." He hadn't looked at her, just at some point over her shoulder. Lily had been crying, reaching for Sarah, her small face confused. Sarah had been deep in the PPD then, a shadow of herself, too weak to fight, too lost to understand the depth of his cruelty. He had always been dismissive, but this, this was a new level of coldness. He was infatuated with Tiffany, had been for years, even before their marriage. Tiffany, glamorous and sharp-edged, who looked at Sarah like she was something stuck to the bottom of her expensive shoe.

Tiffany lived in an upscale penthouse, all glass and chrome, a place that felt as cold as its owner. Sarah' s heart hammered against her ribs as the elevator ascended. She found Tiffany on the expansive terrace, a drink in her hand, looking out over the city. Lily was nowhere in sight.

"Where is she?" Sarah' s voice was tight.

Tiffany turned slowly, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, the little mother hen has arrived."

Then Sarah saw her. Lily. On a small, exposed second-floor balcony off what looked like a spare room, the sun beating down directly on her. She was tiny, alone, and looked miserable.

"What is she doing out there?" Sarah demanded, her voice rising.

"She was being noisy," Tiffany said, waving a dismissive hand. "Needed some quiet time."

Sarah saw the faint, angry red marks on Lily' s arm as the child shifted. Her own palm prints. Fury, hot and fierce, burned through Sarah. "You hit her."

Tiffany laughed, a brittle sound. "She needed discipline. Something you clearly know nothing about."

"Let her in. Now." Sarah' s voice was low, dangerous.

Tiffany' s eyes narrowed. "Who do you think you are? This is my home." She gestured to a stunning, silk dress draped over a chair. "Mark bought me this. Just like he bought you that little trinket you wore at the gala, trying to impress everyone. He always comes back to quality, Sarah."

The dress. He' d once given Sarah a similar designer dress, a rare moment of feigned affection. Tiffany was using it, twisting it.

Sarah pulled out her phone, her hands shaking. "Mark," she said when he answered, her voice desperate. "You need to come here. Tiffany has Lily locked on the balcony. She' s hit her."

Mark' s sigh was audible. "Sarah, are you having another episode? Tiffany knows what' s best. Don' t cause trouble."

The line went dead.

Betrayal, cold and absolute, washed over her. He wouldn' t help. He sided with Tiffany. A chilling premonition gripped her, a sense of impending, awful finality. She looked back at the balcony. Lily was standing, unsteady, near the railing.

Then, the world stopped. A small, desperate cry. A sickening thud.

Sarah didn' t remember running, but suddenly she was at the edge of the lower terrace, looking down. Lily lay on the stone patio below, still, too still. A crimson stain bloomed around her head.

Numbness enveloped Sarah. This couldn' t be real. Her baby. Her Lily. Gone. The sun beat down, indifferent. The city hummed on, unaware of the universe that had just shattered.