Slow Burn(81)

    “You saved this baby,” I said. “Maybe you didn’t save Beth, but you saved the baby. Are you sure you don’t want—”

    “Get it away then,” he said. “I might kill it.”

    “You would never—”

    “Things I try to keep safe die,” he said. “I won’t be able to keep you safe either. You’ll die too.”

    “You can’t know what’s going to happen.”

    “You should both get away from me,” he said. “You and Dixie. Get the flying fuck as far away from me as you possibly can.”

    “If I take Dixie someplace, I’m coming back.”

    “You shouldn’t,” he said.

    “Well, I will,” I said.

    “Don’t,” he said. “I don’t want you too. I want you to get away from me, because you’d be better off without me. I can’t keep you from getting hurt. I only make it worse.”

    “I’m coming back,” I said. “Because I love you, Griffin Fawkes.” Oh God. I’d just said that out loud, hadn’t I?

    He flinched, as if I’d just punched him. For one moment, I saw something soft swimming to the front of his expression, the old him coming back. But then the stoniness slammed back down in its place. He laughed harshly. “That’s pretty idiotic of you, isn’t it?”

* * *

    “This child is too old to be taken in under the Safe Haven law.” The woman at the desk in the hospital was chewing gum. She had on cat-eye glasses, like a cafeteria worker from the 1950s. “You can only drop off unwanted babies up to seven days after they’re born.”

    Dixie was sleeping in my arms. Her mouth was open, and she looked so peaceful. “Look, it’s not really that she’s unwanted. It’s just that her mother is dead.”

    “You’re not the mother of the baby?”

    “No,” I said.

    “Then you have no legal right to leave the baby anywhere. Only the parent can do that.”

    Was the woman deaf? “But her mother’s dead. She’s an orphan.”

    “What do you mean her mother’s dead?”

    What did I mean? “I mean she’s no longer alive.”

    The woman glared at me as if I were particularly stupid. “I mean, how do you know the mother is dead?”

    “Well...” What was I supposed to say here? The activities of Op Wraith were not within the confines of legality, but they were powerful, rich, and connected enough that they were able to make sure the law looked the other way. Would admitting I knew something about a crime make me get detained or something?

    “The reason I ask,” she said, “is that in most situations, there would be someone official available on the scene of the death of a young mother. Someone who would know to call the proper people within Child Services—”

    “So, you’re saying that I need to take the baby to Child Services?”

    “I’m saying that I don’t understand why you’re carrying around a baby whose mother is dead.” She cracked her gum. “Look, sweetheart, if it really is your baby, there’s no reason to lie that the mother’s dead.”

    “It’s not my baby,” I said. Did I look like a woman who’d given birth within the past few months? I didn’t think so.

    “How’d the mother die?”

    I hesitated.

    “That’s what I thought,” she said. “Look, you can’t drop the baby off out of nowhere at that age. You’ll need to actually go through the legal steps to put the baby up for adoption.”

    “I can’t do that,” I said. “I don’t have the time.”

    “What?” said the woman. “You got some new boyfriend who wants to whisk you away, but not if you still have a baby?”

    “She’s not my baby!” I yelled.

    Lots of people in the hospital lobby looked up.

    A woman in flower-printed scrubs came over to me. She was probably a nurse, I thought. “Hi there,” she said in a soothing voice. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”