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She blinks. “You’re not a cop, are you?”
“Like I said, I’m a doctor. Antonio. And I already spoke to the cops.”
“You did?” Fear flickers in her eyes.
She doesn’t trust them, does she? Maybe she’s asked them for help before but was turned down? Maybe her boyfriend is a cop?
“They said you can ask them for help if you want. If not, they’ll leave you and your baby alone.”
She gives me a puzzled expression. “They said that?”
I nod. “All the cops here are friends of mine. They can be trusted.”
Still, she clutches her chest as she looks away warily. She must have been through more hardships than I thought. I have a sudden urge to put my arms around her, but I don’t. I have to earn her trust first.
I sit on my stool. “You’ve been very brave and very strong, traveling all the way here with your baby. I’m guessing she must be the source of your strength and courage. Would you mind telling me her name?”
She doesn’t answer.
“She’s already been changed and fed, by the way. I promise you that both of you will be well taken care of for as long as you stay here.”
Again, her eyebrows furrow. “We can stay here?”
“Yes, for as long as you like. My parents are no longer around, so I live alone. You and your baby can stay in the spare room upstairs. That way, you won’t be bothered when my patients come in. My office is just across the hall.”
I glance out the door.
“I don’t understand.” She shakes her head. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I know how it feels to have nothing,” I answer. “And also, because your baby deserves a home where she can be safe and happy. Because you deserve a home.”
She falls silent. A tear trickles down her cheek.
I stand up to get the box of tissues near the door. As I hand them to her, she looks up at me with a smile.
“Triss,” she says. “My name is Triss.”
I return her smile. “Triss. That’s a beautiful name. And your baby’s?”
She pauses for a second as she places her hand on her chest. “Lara.”
Chapter Three
Triss
“Lara.” I whisper the name I gave to the baby as I brush some curls away from her forehead. “I guess we’re stuck with each other, huh?”
Her closed eyelids flutter. Her mouth moves. The pacifier, which Antonio gave her to help curb her thumb-sucking habit, falls to the side of her chin. Her lips pucker into an adorable pout.
I smile as I pick up the pacifier. My gaze lingers on her face.
Pretty little Lara.
I don’t know where I got that name. It just popped into my head. I do know what it means. It means this baby is now mine.
My baby. From now on, I’ll have to pretend I’m Lara’s mother.
I’m just accepting the role Antonio gave me. He seemed convinced Lara’s my baby. That got me thinking that maybe others will believe it as well. Sure, I could have told him he was wrong. I could have just told him the truth. But what would I have gained by doing that? Antonio already looked at me with kindness, concern, admiration even. No man has ever looked at me that way. Why ruin that? Besides, Antonio only told the police to leave me alone because he thought Lara was mine, because he believed I was protecting her. If he found out she wasn’t, he would have brought me to the police himself. He wouldn’t have offered me his home.
I wipe the drool off the corner of Lara’s mouth with her bib.
I know I’m using Lara in order to avail of Antonio’s kindness, as some kind of ticket to safety and survival, but at the same time, I’m protecting her. By saying she’s my baby, I’ve secured a home for her, too. I’m also ensuring her safety and her survival. For now.
Of course, I’m not planning on keeping her forever. Someday, when this nightmare is over or she’s old enough to understand, whichever comes first, I’m going to tell her the truth and find her parents. In the meantime, though, she’s mine to protect and care for.
“I promise I’ll take good care of you,” I tell Lara as I stroke her plump, rosy cheek.
Sure, I’m not her real mother and I know nothing about being a mother, hardly having had one myself, but I’m a woman. Billions of women have raised children since the dawn of time, right? Plus Lara is so small and she doesn’t do much. She’s practically sleeping most of the time. How hard can it be to take care of her?
~
Extremely hard, I think as I rock Lara in my arms while she continues bawling. In fact, I might just be on the brink of collapsing again.
I haven’t had any sleep. I was just about to drift off when Lara woke up and started crying. I checked her diaper. It was fine. I gave her a bottle of the milk that I’d prepared beforehand and she drank it, but afterwards, she continued crying. I checked her diaper again. It still seemed fine. I tried to stick the pacifier into her mouth but she wouldn’t have it. She wouldn’t even suck on her thumb like she used to. I picked her up and started to rock her in my arms. I even sang a lullaby even though I never sing. That worked, but then the moment I put her back in the bassinet, she woke up and started crying again.
