At eight that night, after Leo was tucked into bed with his rabbit, I went upstairs to our bedroom.

The autumn cold was settling against the windowpanes, and I needed my heavy winter coat for the morning drive to the bank.

I walked into the walk-in closet, rested a hand protectively over my bump, and reached up toward the top shelf, where my dark brown winter maternity coat always sat next to my favorite blue silk scarf.

The top wooden shelf was empty.

I dragged a small wooden step stool over from the vanity and climbed up to check behind Julian’s folded sweaters.