The baby made a mewling sound, and Lexi started to cry. “Don’t cry, baby,” she said, kissing the tiny pink lips.
Then she looked up at Zach. “Tell her I loved her enough to do what was best for her.”
“I’ll bring her to visit—”
“No.” She kissed her daughter one last time, and then slowly, slowly handed her to Zach. “I don’t want her to grow up like I did. Keep her away from me.”
He took the small bundle in his arms. “Grace,” he said. “Grace Mia Farraday.”
Lexi felt the pain of that. “I love you, Gracie,” she whispered, wishing she’d kissed her daughter one more time before she handed her over. “And Zach, I—”
There was a knock at the door. It was so loud it startled her.
“That will be my mom,” Zach said. “What were you going to say?”
Lexi shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
He paused, moved his gaze from the baby to Lexi. “I ruined everything,” he said softly.
She couldn’t find her voice, not even to say good-bye to her daughter or the boy she loved.
*
Jude had tried to prepare for this day. She told herself this would be it, the start of a new Jude, and so when Zach came out of Lexi’s hospital room, holding a pink-wrapped newborn, his eyes glazed with emotion, Jude felt hope rising within her, standing tall.
“Grace Mia Farraday,” Zach said.
“She’s gorgeous,” Miles said, coming up beside his son, cupping the baby’s small head in his long surgeon’s hand.
Jude looked down into her granddaughter’s small face, and time seemed to fall away.
For a second, she was a young mother herself, with a baby in each arm and Miles beside her.
Grace looked exactly like Mia.
The same bow-shaped lips and muddy blue eyes that would turn green, the same pointed chin and white-blond eyelashes. Jude drew back instinctively.
“Mom?” Zach said, looking up at her. “Do you want to hold her?”
Jude started to shake. The cold in her heart radiated out to her fingers, and she wished she’d brought a coat. “Of course.” She made herself smile and reach out, taking Mia—no, Grace—in her arms, holding her close.
Love her, she thought desperately, beginning to panic. Feel something.
But there was nothing. She stared down at her own granddaughter, this baby who looked enough like Mia to fool anyone, and Jude felt nothing at all.
*
Physically, Lexi healed quickly. Her boobs shrank back to their normal size, and her milk dried up. Within a month, a few pale silvery lines on her lower belly were the only evidence that she’d ever had a child.
She felt as faded as those marks. Pregnancy had changed her. A girl named Alexa Baill had gone into that hospital, chained to a bed, and given birth to the most beautiful baby in the world. She’d seen the boy she loved one last time. And then it was all gone, and an older, wiser Lexi had come back to Purdy.
Before, she’d been fragile, even hopeful; she saw that now, the way you saw a missing fence post. The lack stood out. She’d been damaged, broken by the terrible thing she’d done, but she’d believed in redemption, in the power of justice. She’d thought that going to prison would be an atonement and that with atonement she could be forgiven.
What a crock.
Her lawyer had been right. She should have fought the charges, said she was sorry and young and stupid.
Instead, she’d done the right thing and been crushed. She’d lost everything that mattered to her, but nothing hurt more than the loss of her child.