Mara reached the farmhouse and found Noah crying in his crib. She lifted him immediately, checking his face, his hands, his breathing. He settled against her shoulder after a few seconds. The familiar weight of him should have comforted her, but the open gate remained in her thoughts.
Eli entered behind her.
“You need to lock that gate.”
“I will.”
“No. Now.”
He went outside.
Mara watched through the window as he crossed the yard.
He closed the gate.
Then he stood there.
For a moment, he simply stared toward the tree line.
Mara knew that look.
“What are you seeing?” she asked when he came back.
“Nothing.”
She frowned.
“You were staring at something.”
“I thought I saw movement.”
“Where?”
“Beyond the fence.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Mara felt the baby shift against her chest.
“Then we need to call someone.”
Eli shook his head.
“Call who?”
“The sheriff.”
His face tightened.
“Why?”
“Because someone was near our baby.”
“We don't know that.”
“We found footprints.”
Eli stared at her.
“You found footprints?”
“And fabric.”
“What fabric?”
Mara held out the blue scrap.
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But she saw it.
“You recognize it.”
“No.”
“You do.”
“I don't.”
Mara folded the fabric into her palm.
“Then why did you look frightened?”
“I didn't.”
She walked away.
The sheriff arrived that afternoon.
He examined the yard, the gate, the barn, and the footprints. He photographed everything.
Mara showed him the fabric.
He placed it into an evidence bag.
“Have you had anyone working around the property recently?”
Eli answered before Mara could.
“No.”
The sheriff looked at Mara.
She hesitated.
“There was a delivery last week.”
“What kind?”
“Farm supplies.”
“Who delivered them?”
“I don't remember.”
Eli said, “It was a local company.”
The sheriff looked at him.
“Name?”
Eli gave it.
Mara watched her husband.
He seemed too prepared.
The sheriff asked whether there had been disputes with neighbors.
Eli said no.
Mara remembered the argument with their former tenant.
She spoke.
“There was one.”
Eli turned toward her.
“It wasn't serious.”
“What happened?”
Mara explained that the tenant had left after an argument over unpaid rent.
The sheriff wrote down the man's name.
“Anyone else?”
Mara shook her head.
Eli remained silent.
The sheriff looked at him.
“You?”
Eli frowned.
“What about me?”
“Anyone from your past who might have a reason to come here?”
“No.”
The sheriff closed his notebook.
“Keep the doors locked. Don't leave the baby unattended outside. If you see anyone on the property, call us.”
After he left, Mara stood in the kitchen.
“You lied.”
Eli stared.
“About what?”
“You didn't tell him about the letter.”
His face changed.
“What letter?”
“The one you received last month.”
“I didn't think it mattered.”
Mara's voice became quiet.
“Someone wrote that they knew where we lived.”
Eli looked down.
“You read it?”
“It was on the table.”
“You weren't supposed to see it.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn't want you worried.”
“You didn't want me worried?”
“Yes.”
“Someone threatened us.”
“It wasn't a threat.”
“What was it?”
Eli had no answer.
Mara took a step toward him.
“Who sent it?”
“I don't know.”
“You need to tell me.”
“I threw it away.”
Mara closed her eyes.
For the first time, she wondered whether Eli had been hiding something much larger than a mistake.
That evening, she searched the kitchen drawers.
She found nothing.
Then she remembered the blue fabric.
She took it from the evidence bag she had been allowed to examine and compared it with Eli's clothes.
Nothing matched.
She checked the barn.
The blue fabric resembled the lining of an old work jacket.
Eli owned one.
Mara found it hanging behind the mudroom door.
There was a torn section near the sleeve.
She stared at it.
The missing piece matched.
Eli entered.
He saw the jacket in her hand.
“Mara.”
“You said you didn't recognize the fabric.”
“I forgot.”
“You forgot your own jacket was torn?”
“I haven't worn it in months.”
“Where were you wearing it?”
He said nothing.
“Eli.”
“I was working near the barn.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“You told me you were in town.”
“I went afterward.”
Mara stared.
The room felt colder.
“Were you outside with Noah?”
“No.”
“Then why is your jacket torn?”
“I don't know.”
She stepped closer.
“Did you take Noah outside?”
“No.”
“Did someone else?”
“I don't know.”
Mara looked at him.
“You keep saying you don't know.”
“Because I don't.”
Noah began crying upstairs.
Mara left him.
That night, she placed the crib beside her bed.
Eli slept on the couch.
At three in the morning, Mara woke to a noise.
A soft scraping sound.
She sat upright.
Noah was sleeping.
The bedroom door was closed.
She heard the sound again.
From the hallway.
Mara reached for her phone.
She moved toward the door.
Before opening it, she noticed something beneath the crack.
A shadow.
Someone was standing outside.
Mara stopped breathing.
The shadow moved.
Then disappeared.
She unlocked the door.
The hallway was empty.
The front door was locked.
The back door was locked.
She checked Noah.
Still asleep.
She called the sheriff.
Officers arrived twenty minutes later.
They searched the property.
No one was found.
But one officer discovered a cigarette near the barn.
Mara stared at it.
“We don't smoke.”
The sheriff nodded.
“Neither do I.”
He bagged it.
Eli stood behind them.
He looked pale.
The sheriff turned.
“Do you recognize this brand?”
Eli shook his head.
“No.”
Mara watched him.
The following morning, the sheriff called.
The cigarette had been tested.
There was DNA on it.
They were running the sample.
Mara tried to continue normal chores.
She couldn't.
Every sound made her turn.
Every vehicle on the road made her look through the window.
Noah seemed perfectly healthy.
That almost made it harder.
He smiled at her.
He kicked his little feet.
He drank his bottle.
He had no idea that adults were standing around his crib trying to understand why someone had placed him outside.
That afternoon, Mara found something beneath the old barn stairs.
A small metal box.
It was locked.
She called Eli.
He came outside.
“What is that?”
“I don't know.”
He looked at the box.
Then his face changed.
“You know it.”
“No.”
“You do.”
Eli crouched.
His fingers trembled.
“I've seen it before.”
“Where?”
“In my father's workshop.”
“Your father?”
“He died years ago.”
Mara stared.
“Why would his box be here?”
“I don't know.”
The lock was already damaged.
Mara opened it.
Inside was an old photograph.
A woman stood beside a younger Eli.
Mara recognized neither her nor the place.
There was also a folded letter.
She opened it.
The handwriting was faded.
Only one sentence remained clearly readable.
If anything happens to the child, look beneath the floorboards.
Mara's hands went cold.
She looked at Eli.
“What child?”
He stared at the letter.
Then he whispered a name Mara had never heard before.
“Daniel.”
Click Here to continue read next: PART3: Eli Finally Spoke About Daniel, but the Old Letter Revealed a Family Secret That Made the Baby’s Disappearance Look Like Something Planned
She Thought the Quiet Baby Was Finally Resting Until One Small Detail Made Her Turn Around and Realize Something Was Terribly Wrong
Part 2 of 8
