Chapter 2 - The LullabyVivienne recovered quickly. She always did.
She lifted her chin and turned toward the crowd with a trembling performance of outrage. “This woman is dangerous. She has manipulated a child. Adrian, call security before this becomes worse.”
But Adrian did not move.
He watched Clara’s hands. She held Noah carefully, one palm on the back of his head, the other protecting his small shoulders from the cold marble floor. It was instinctive. Familiar.
Noah clung to her like he had known the shape of her arms all his life.
“How do you know him?” Adrian asked.
Clara swallowed. “I knew him before he had a name.”
Vivienne laughed sharply. “See? Listen to her. She’s delusional.”
Clara ignored her. “He had a mark under his left shoulder. A small crescent birthmark. The nurse said it looked like the moon.”
Adrian’s breath caught.
Noah did have that mark.
Vivienne’s eyes darted toward him. “Lots of people know that. He swims. He has doctors.”
Clara’s voice grew steadier. “He hated the hospital blankets. He would only sleep if I hummed the same song three times.”
Noah lifted his tearful face.
“The bluebird song,” he whispered.
The color drained from Vivienne’s cheeks.
Adrian looked at his son. “What song?”
Noah sniffled. “Mommy sings it when I have bad dreams.”
Vivienne snapped, “I sing to you every night.”
“No,” Noah said, shaking his head. “You tell Maria to do it.”
A ripple moved through the ballroom.
Clara’s lips trembled. Then, barely above a whisper, she began to hum.
The melody was soft, simple, aching.
Noah closed his eyes immediately.
Adrian felt the sound move through him like a memory trying to return from behind a locked door. He had heard that melody once, years ago, through a hospital wall while recovering from a concussion after a car accident. He had asked Vivienne about it later.
She had told him it was a television commercial.
Now his son was breathing calmly for the first time since the slap.
Vivienne stepped backward.
Adrian saw it.
Not grief.
Not confusion.
Calculation.
“Vivienne,” he said, his voice colder now, “why does she know that song?”
Vivienne’s mask tightened. “Because she’s been stalking us.”
Clara looked up.
“I have proof I gave birth to him.”
The room fell silent again.
Adrian’s eyes locked on hers.
“What proof?”
Clara reached into the pocket of her tan uniform and pulled out a folded hospital bracelet.
The plastic had yellowed with time.
May you like
On it were three printed words.
Baby Bennett. Male.
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