Six days after giving birth, Simone was still recovering when her husband walked downstairs, took her car, and told her to stay home with their newborn daughter.
“It would be easier for everyone,” Roland said.
Minutes later, his mother sent Simone a message that hurt even more.
“He deserves one peaceful night away from you.”
Simone didn’t argue.
She didn’t beg to be included.
Instead, she packed one bag, picked up her six-day-old daughter, and called the one person she knew would come without asking questions.
“Dad, come get me.”
Less than an hour later, a black Cadillac Escalade pulled into the driveway.
But Roland was still sitting at his mother’s dinner table, laughing over dessert.
Then his phone lit up with a camera notification.
What he saw on the screen made him realize Simone was gone.
And when one name appeared on the phone moments later, the entire table went silent.
The name was one Roland had never heard before.
Caldwell.
Wren was six days old when Roland came downstairs wearing his navy dinner jacket.
Simone was standing beside the kitchen island, warming soup a neighbor had left on their porch.
Her hospital bracelet was still around her wrist.
Wren was sleeping peacefully against her chest.
“Faye’s having everyone over,” Roland said as he reached for Simone’s car keys. “Mom leaves for Savannah tomorrow.”
Simone looked up.
“What time are we going?”
Roland hesitated.
“It would be easier if you stayed home.”
She stared at him, waiting for him to explain.
“The drive is too much for Wren,” he continued. “Faye’s house will be crowded. You should rest.”
His SUV was at the dealership, so he had been using Simone’s Camry.
The infant-seat base was already installed.
Wren’s diaper bag was inside.
Everything they needed to travel safely with their newborn was sitting in Simone’s car.
“You’re taking my car?”
“Just for a few hours.”
“And leaving us here?”
