Chapter 8
I stared at the pregnancy test.
Two pink lines.
Positive.
I was pregnant.
At thirty-four.
With my first child.
With Mark's child.
Lily was going to be a big sister.
I couldn't believe it.
I was happy.
Terrified.
Overwhelmed.
Grateful.
Everything at once.
I told Mark that night.
After Lily was asleep.
I handed him the test.
He stared at it.
Then he looked at me.
Tears in his eyes.
"Really?"
"Really."
He picked me up and spun me around.
Laughing.
Crying.
"We're having a baby," he said.
"We're having a baby."
We decided to tell Lily the next morning.
She was eating breakfast.
Pancakes.
Her favorite.
"Lily, honey," Mark said. "We have something to tell you."
"What?"
"You're going to be a big sister," I said.
She stared at us.
Then her face lit up.
"Really? A baby? Like my cousin's baby?"
"Really," I said.
She jumped out of her chair.
She ran to us.
She hugged both of us.
"I'm going to be a big sister! I'm going to teach her everything! How to color! How to swim! How to braid hair!"
"Or him," Mark said.
"Or him," Lily agreed. "But I hope it's a girl. We can have matching dresses."
We laughed.
Everything was perfect.
But I was worried.
About the pregnancy.
About being an older mother.
About Jessica.
Would she find out?
Would she try to hurt this baby too?
Mark reassured me.
"Jessica is in jail," he said. "She can't hurt us. She can't hurt the baby. We're safe. All of us."
But I couldn't shake the feeling.
Jessica had found ways to hurt us from jail before.
She could do it again.
I decided not to tell anyone outside our closest circle.
Not yet.
Not until I was further along.
Not until it felt safer.
The first three months were hard.
I was exhausted.
Sick all the time.
But it was worth it.
Every time I heard the baby's heartbeat.
Every time I saw it on the ultrasound.
Every time Mark held my stomach and talked to the baby.
It was all worth it.
At twelve weeks, we told the rest of our friends and family.
Everyone was thrilled.
Everyone except Jessica.
Somehow, she found out.
I don't know how.
Maybe my parents told her.
Maybe one of the guards.
Maybe she just had a sixth sense for causing pain.
She called Mark.
From jail.
Again.
"Congratulations," she said. Her voice was cold. "I hope you enjoy your new baby. Because you're going to need something to comfort you when I take Lily back. And when I destroy everything you love."
Mark hung up.
He blocked the number.
But the damage was done.
The fear was back.
Would she really try to take Lily again?
Could she really hurt us from jail?
We increased security.
We changed our phone numbers.
We made sure Lily's school had strict protocols.
We did everything we could to protect our family.
And we tried to focus on the positive.
On the baby.
On our future.
At twenty weeks, we found out we were having a girl.
Lily was ecstatic.
"I knew it! I knew it would be a girl! We're going to be best friends!"
We named her Grace.
Grace Lily Davidson.
After the grace that had brought us together.
And after the big sister who loved her before she was even born.
The pregnancy went smoothly after that.
I felt the baby kick.
Mark felt her kick.
Lily talked to her every day.
Sang to her.
Read to her.
Told her stories about what a wonderful family she was joining.
Everything was perfect.
Until Jessica's criminal trial.
It was scheduled for when I was seven months pregnant.
I had to testify.
Mark had to testify.
Lily had to give a recorded statement.
It was going to be hard.
Painful.
But necessary.
To make sure Jessica never hurt anyone again.
The trial was a media circus.
The tabloids were there.
The cameras.
The reporters.
Everyone wanted to see the "evil sister" who'd abandoned her child at the airport.
Who'd tried to frame her own sister.
Who'd conspired to steal corporate secrets.
Jessica played the victim again.
She wore her best "grieving mother" outfit.
She cried.
She trembled.
She talked about how she'd been manipulated.
By Mark.
By me.
By the system.
She claimed she'd been suffering from postpartum depression.
That she wasn't in her right mind.
That she'd never intentionally hurt Lily.
That it was all a misunderstanding.
That Mark and I had conspired to frame her.
To take her child.
To destroy her.
It was all lies.
But she was convincing.
And the jury was watching.
Listening.
Considering.
Then our side presented the evidence.
The sticky note.
The phone records.
The text messages.
The bank records showing the corporate espionage payments.
Jake testified about how Jessica had manipulated him.
About the fake DNA test.
Claire recanted her testimony from the custody hearing.
She admitted she'd lied.
That Jessica had paid her.
That she was sorry.
My parents were called as witnesses.
For the prosecution.
They were forced to admit everything.
How they'd helped Jessica abandon Lily.
How they'd lied in the custody hearing.
How they'd received money from Jessica.
They were destroyed on the stand.
Their reputations ruined.
Their lies exposed.
And then I testified.
I told the truth.
Everything.
From the airport.
To the custody hearing.
To the tabloid lies.
To Jake showing up at our door.
To Jessica's phone calls from jail.
Everything.
The jury was riveted.
I could see the anger in their eyes.
The disgust.
They hated Jessica.
They hated what she'd done.
To Lily.
To me.
To Mark.
To everyone.
When the trial ended, the jury deliberated for four hours.
And then they came back.
Guilty.
On all counts.
Twenty-eight charges.
Twenty-eight convictions.
Jessica was sentenced to thirty-two years in prison.
With no possibility of parole.
She would be in her sixties when she got out.
If she lived that long.
She was going to die in prison.
Alone.
Forgotten.
Unloved.
Just like she deserved.
My parents pled guilty to their charges.
In exchange for reduced sentences.
My mother got two years probation.
And a heavy fine.
My father got one year of probation.
And a fine.
They were ruined.
Financially.
Socially.
Everything they'd enabled Jessica to do had come back to destroy them.
They moved to Florida.
To escape the shame.
I never heard from them again.
And I didn't care.
They'd made their choice.
They'd chosen Jessica.
And they'd lost everything.
It was over.
Really over.
Finally.
Truly.
Forever.
Mark and I could finally breathe.
We could finally focus on our future.
On our family.
On Grace.
Who was due in two months.
Everything was perfect.
But life had one more challenge for us.
May you like
One more test of our strength.
And it came the day Grace was born.
