The Photograph of a Newborn in a Yellow Knitted Hat
The confident edge she had shown at the police station was completely gone.
“I came alone,” Rebecca said.
“Did Evans call you?” I asked.
“Is that why you’re standing on my porch?”
Rebecca buttoned her coat again and leaned against the doorframe.
“We just got off to a terrible start,” Rebecca said.
“I’m trying to protect my family.”
“Lily isn’t your family.”
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