Chapter 5 - The Locked Door
Avery’s stomach plunged into an abyss of cold dread. She followed Brenda through the grand foyer and down the eastern wing, right up to a closed door situated directly adjacent to Brenda’s own master suite—a room Avery had never been allowed to enter.
Brenda pushed the door open wide, revealing a fully completed, meticulously decorated nursery.
A white handcrafted crib sat beneath a mobile of silver stars. A wooden bassinet rested beside a plush rocking chair, illuminated by a soft yellow nightlight. On the far wall, custom wooden letters spelled out THEO in meticulous perfection. Racks of baby clothes hung neatly in the closet, and a state-of-the-art bottle sterilizer hummed quietly on the changing table, its indicator light glowing green.
This room hadn't been assembled today. It had been waiting behind lock and key for weeks, a silent monument to Brenda's premeditated usurpation.
"When he cries at night, I'll get up with him," Brenda announced proudly, stepping aside so the trailing guests could peer inside like tourists at an exhibit. "You rest up and heal. His room is right next to mine. I'll hear every stir."
"His room is forty miles away in our house," Avery said, her voice dropping an octave as she pulled Theo tighter against her chest, shielding him from the invasive gazes.
The murmurs in the hallway evaporated instantly. Brenda chuckled that patronizing, rehearsed laugh she reserved for perceived madness. "Oh, honey, don't be silly. Ethan and I already discussed it. With your postpartum mood swings and that demanding accounting firm you work for, you won't have the bandwidth. Theo will live here during the week. You can visit on weekends."
May you like
Avery whipped around, fixing her blazing eyes on her husband. "You discussed this?"
Ethan refused to meet her gaze, shifting his weight uneasily as he stared at the Persian rug. "Avery, look at yourself. You're exhausted. You've been crying half the morning. Mom ran a daycare for fifteen years. It just makes practical sense."
