I brought my five-month-old son home to visit my parents—and the neighbor's kid snatched him the moment I looked away.
Threw him into the old freezer in our family's convenience store.
I searched all night like a woman possessed. Then something made me check the freezer.
When I opened it and saw my baby's frozen body, I shattered.
I rushed him to the hospital, screaming for help. The doctor pronounced him dead on arrival.
The police reviewed the security footage. The one who'd thrown my son into that freezer was the neighbor's ten-year-old child.
Too young for criminal charges.
They offered me a few hundred thousand dollars and expected me to move on.
I couldn't. I grabbed a knife, ready to avenge my son with my own hands.
A Volvo hit me before I got halfway there. Ran me over. Reversed. Did it again.
Only left when they were sure I'd stopped breathing.
When I opened my eyes, I was back. That same afternoon I'd first arrived at my parents' place.
1.
For a moment, I couldn't process it.
I looked down—my arms were empty. My son wasn't there.
I bolted into the bedroom.
There he was. Lying in his crib, reaching up for me with tiny fingers.
My heart started beating again.
I scooped Craig Floyd up and rushed straight to my sister's house, begging Serena Fox to watch him for a while.
Then I went back to my parents' place. Acted like nothing had happened.
Because I needed to know—what was that little demon next door after?
I stayed at Serena's for hours, talking about nothing, killing time.
On my way back, the neighbor's kid was waiting by the entrance. Smiling at me.
The same smile from before. It made my skin crawl.
He seemed to know me. Called me "Auntie Deidre Fox."
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral.
Probably heard my parents mention me, I told myself.
I headed for the stairs. He followed.
In the pitch-black stairwell, I could hear his footsteps—lighter than mine, but perfectly in sync.
I climbed one floor. He climbed one floor.
Only when I reached my parents' door and fumbled for the handle did he finally skip back downstairs, humming to himself.
My father yanked the door open. "Where have you been all afternoon? Did you take the baby somewhere?"
I'd left with Craig without telling them.
I opened my mouth to explain—
A scream ripped through the building from below.
My mother's voice.
I was down the stairs before I knew I was moving, bursting into the convenience store.
"Mom! What happened? What's wrong?"
She was trembling, pointing at the freezer.
I walked over. Lifted the lid.
A frozen infant stared back at me.
I went cold.
Craig was safe at Serena's. I'd made sure of it.
So who was this?
The baby looked like it had been placed there that afternoon—already stiff, skin mottled purple, frost clinging to its lashes. The features were too distorted to make out clearly.
My mother had never seen anything like this. Her face went chalk-white, and she swayed like she might collapse.
"Is it real?" she kept asking. "Is that real?"
I didn't know how to answer.
I guided my father to her side, told him to stay with her, keep her calm.
Then I pulled out my phone and dialed 110.
Within minutes, neighbors packed the doorway—drawn by my mother's scream, hungry for spectacle.
I stared at the tiny frozen face, trying to think.
Who is this baby?
The features... they almost looked like Craig's.
But I'd never seen this child before in my life.
One thing I knew for certain: the neighbor's kid had put this body here.
And suddenly I understood why he'd smiled at me.
That smug, triumphant grin.
In my previous life, if I hadn't sent Craig to Serena's in time—
