Sandra looked at her beautiful, sleeping daughter in the bassinet. The man she loved was a stranger, and the life they had built was a house of cards. The “devotion” she had admired suddenly felt like a carefully maintained mask.
“He built the crib,” Sandra whispered, a cold chill washing over her. “He’s been waiting for this.”
“We need to know,” the social worker said, sitting down and opening the file, “did he ever mention a town called Blackwood? Or a woman named Clara?”
Sandra froze. Clara. That was the name Jake had suggested for the baby. He’d said it was a name he’d always found “peaceful.”
The social worker, Sarah, leaned in, her voice low. “The records from Blackwood are sealed for a reason, Sandra. The ‘Domestic Safety’ flag on his file is an automated alert triggered by a permanent injunction. It usually means the individual is prohibited from being around children. Given he just became a father, the system went into total lockdown.”
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