My Neighbour Thinks My Baby Is Hers

My husband and I were over the moon to welcome our gorgeous little girl into the world on August 4th 2023. For privacy reasons, I will refer to her as 'Rose'.

It's safe to say that our lives completely changed from the moment Rose took her first breath. It's an incredible experience becoming a parent, but it's not without its challenges. Despite the obvious life altering differences you might expect, like lack of sleep and constant anxiety, there have been other changes, too. Changes no one warned me about.

Now, for the record, I'm an extremely introverted person. My husband, Sam, is the complete opposite. He's the kind of guy who can make a friend for life while waiting for a bus. But, me? I use self service machines in shops just so I don't have to face another human being at the till. I can force small talk if necessary, but it will completely drain me for the rest of the day. So, you can imagine the dread I felt when all of a sudden the world and his wife wanted to stop and talk to me as soon as they saw the pram.

"Oh my goodness, how old is she?!" 

"Oh, this is such a precious time for you. Enjoy every moment!" 

"Have you tried rubbing alcohol on her gums? That'll stop the crying!"

Everywhere I went, I was stopped by strangers who wanted to take a peek at Rose and give me outdated and unsolicited parenting advice. We live in what Sam calls 'God's Waiting Room'- a small seaside town where oldies come to die. I know that's such an unpleasant way of putting it, but it's true. I think it's for this exact reason why our elderly neighbours were so thrilled to see a fresh young face like Rose's.  

At first, I resented the attention. But as the weeks passed, I began getting used to it. It became the norm. And, as new parents do, I adapted to my new way of life. I even got to know some of my neighbours on a first name basis. Neighbours like June.

June lived opposite us. She must have been well into her eighties, but she was extremely mobile considering. The first few times we met were pleasant enough; she asked me how old Rose was, how I was finding it all- the usual. Honestly, nothing out of the ordinary. It's not like I met her and thought "wow, this woman is dangerous". She just seemed like a sweet old lady. But things got weird.

It was mid-morning. I was walking Rose up and down our road in her pram.  

"Trying to get baby off to sleep?"

I turned around to see June peering from behind her front door, a huge smile plastered on her face.  

"Oh, hi!" I said, having been caught off guard. "Yeah, she's being reluctant today."

"I saw you from the kitchen!" June called. "Can I come and say hello?"

I was a little annoyed by the request as I just wanted to get Rose to sleep so I could put my feet up for five, but being a people pleaser, I simply nodded. June scurried over.

"He's gorgeous!" she exclaimed.

"She." I corrected.

"Oh, she. Yes, of course. Absolutely gorgeous."

Before I had time to react, she reached into the pram and stroked Rose's cheek.

"Sweet baby." she cooed. "Soft skin, soft face. My sweet baby."

"I think I'm going to take her back inside now," I said, quickly. "Nice to see you."

When I got back inside I held Rose tight to me. I rocked her in my arms until she fell asleep. Was I crazy, or was that weird? I couldn't tell if I was overreacting, but something about that whole interaction felt off. When Sam got home from work I told him all about it.

"She's old, babe." He said. "She's probably just a bit lonely."

-

I didn't see June again until a couple of weeks later. By then, our previous encounter had kind of slipped my mind. However, when I looked out of my living room window one morning and saw her slowly making her way towards our house, I must admit I felt a twinge of dread.  

"Hi, June." I said, as I answered the door.

"Where's baby?" she said, peering round me in search of Rose.

"She's just having a nap at the moment. Everything okay?"

June presented me with a beautiful brown teddy bear.

"I made this for him, I hope he likes it."

"Oh, wow. It's gorgeous!" I said. It truly was, and suddenly I felt a pang of guilt. Perhaps Sam was right. Perhaps she's just lonely.

"It's just a little something." She said with a small smile.

"No, it's wonderful, June! Rose will love it."

"Who?"

We stared blankly at each other for a few seconds.

"Rose?" I said, though it sounded more like a question.

"Oh, is that baby's name? Sorry, dear. Yes, I hope she does."

"Thanks again." I said with a smile. "Really sweet of you."

-

When Sam got home, I filled him in.

"She keeps calling Rose 'he'." I said. "I know it doesn't matter, but it's kind of annoying."

"It sounds like her memory's going, Gemma. It's common in old people."

"Yes, Sam, I get that. But... I dunno, I just get weird vibes from her. The teddy is cute though, isn't it?"

"Honestly? It's kind of creepy!" Sam burst out laughing.

"No it's not!" I giggled, playfully elbowing him in his side. "I actually really like it. It was sweet of her to do that. Ugh, I think I'm just tired. I'm being mean about her for no reason."

"No, babe. It's your motherly instinct kicking in. You're being protective, and I love you for it." He kissed my forehead. "But yeah, despite maybe being a little odd, I think she's just an innocent woman trying to be kind."

This set my mind at ease for all of around twelve hours.  

It was nap time, and I was walking up and down my drive with Rose in the pram, trying to get her to nod off- something which had become a bit of a habit.

I looked up to see June approaching. I gave her a smile, but then noticed that her lips were moving. I gestured that I couldn't hear her, but she carried on as she moved towards me. She almost looked panicked.

I realised as she got closer than she was saying the same thing, over and over again.

Can I have baby?

I stared in disbelief. Maybe I'd misheard her. I waited until she was stood next to me, then asked her to repeat herself.  

"Can I have baby?" she murmured in a raspy voice.

"What do you mean?" I asked, still in shock.

"Can I have baby? I'm going to the shop, I can take him with me."

I wanted to ask what the hell she was on about and why she thought I'd let someone I barely know walk off with my child, but instead, all I could say was:

"No, thank you."

"I won't leave him outside or anything, I'll take him in with me."

Her lips shook as she stared directly into my eyes. It looked like she hadn't slept in days.

"No." I said again, trying to be stern.

She threw her arms up in the air in a dramatic fashion, and sighed loudly.

"We're going back inside now, bye."

I quickly marched Rose into the house, locking the door behind me. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. I texted Sam.

Sam: That's really weird. Why did she want to take Rose to the shop? And what did she mean she wouldn't leave her outside lol she's not a dog xx

Me: Babe it's not funny.. I'm starting to get really creeped out now x

Sam: Sorry Gem, I know. Wtf tho? Why is she being like that? Xx

Me: idk but I dont like it x

-

I became much more wary of June from that day on. While I wanted to believe the best in her, something felt wrong to me. Looking back now, I wish I'd paid closer attention to my gut instinct. Maybe I could have stopped all this from happening. But then, what would I have done? Called the police? And say what, exactly? My neighbour has made my daughter a teddy and keeps saying hello to me, please help? At this point, she hadn't done anything too concerning, she was just being slightly odd. It's not illegal to be a bit weird.

I saw her out and about in the village and tried my best to avoid her as much as possible. If she said hello I'd say it back, but then follow it up with 'I'm in a rush' and 'see you around'. I didn't want to be rude, but then I also didn't want to stop and chat to her. This suited me fine- I didn't have to fall out with her, but I didn't have to be her best friend, either. All was good, it seemed.

Until she turned up at my house again.

It was 11:17pm on a Thursday when the doorbell rang. I remember the exact time because the sound of the doorbell jolted me awake, and in my zombie-like state I reached for my phone, thinking it was my alarm. Realising it wasn't, I nudged Sam.

"Someone's at the door." I whispered.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes.  

"Ugh, what time is it?"

He groaned when I told him.

"Maybe whoever it is will just go away." he said.  

Then, the doorbell rung again.

Ding.

And again, three seconds later.

Ding.

Rose let out a cry in her cot next to us, and I reached over to soothe her.

DING DING DING DING DING-

"Fucking hell!" Sam snapped. "I'll go see who it is."

I picked up Rose and shushed her, offering her some milk. As she latched on, I tried my hardest to listen to the conversation Sam was having at the front door, but I could only make out snippets.

"...it's really late..."

"...I appreciate it, but..."

"...okay. Okay, take care..."

The door closed.  

Sam returned to the bedroom, holding a tiny blue cardigan in his hands.  

"Oh my god!" I whispered, trying not to disturb Rose too much. "Was that June?"

Sam nodded.

"What did she say?!"

"She asked to see Rose." He whispered. "She made this for her."

"And what did you say?!"

"I said it was very late. That it was kind of her, but it's the middle of the night! God... she really wanted to come in, Gem. She was practically stood there with one leg in the door!"

"Can you take the batteries out of the doorbell and double check you've locked the door, please?" My voice shook slightly. "I'm really worried, Sam, I don't like this at all."

"Yeah, I'll go do it now."

He set the cardigan down beside me on the bed and left the room. I stared at it. It was beautiful, but the sight of it turned my stomach. I threw it in the direction of the wardrobe and turned my attention back to Rose.

-

The next day, I taped over the doorbell and attached a piece of paper to the door that said 'Baby sleeping, please knock quietly.' I thought maybe this would be enough to deter June from bothering us again, but I was doubtful. I wanted to confront her. I wanted to tell her it was completely inappropriate turning up at someone's house in the middle of the night, especially when they have a sleeping baby. But I didn't want to see her, and I especially didn't want her to see Rose.  

I thought about calling the non-emergency police line, but what would I say? It's not been a repeat late night disturbance, just a one off. They normally encourage neighbours to try and resolve issues themselves before getting the authorities involved, anyway. At least that's what Google told me. So again, I did nothing but hope that June would lose interest and things could go back to normal.

Then Rose became sick with Bronchiolitis. I wouldn't have been able to get through such a tough time without Sam. He kept me sane. Every single cough or sneeze from Rose made my heart pound in my chest. She was so brave through it all, but it took its toll on us all mentally and physically. One of the hardest parts was that our bedtime routine had completely gone out the window. We'd only just managed to get her to sleep through the night, but now she was up every hour coughing and spluttering. My anxiety was through the roof.

One night, I just couldn't get Rose to settle. No matter what I tried, she wasn't having any of it. In the end, I took her into the living room and put Ms Rachel on the telly. I sprawled across the sofa with Rose on my chest, dozing in and out of consciousness. Then it happened.

Tap.  

Tap.

Tap.

I jolted awake and looked around the room. Nothing. Rose had fallen asleep, too. I took her into the bedroom and lay her down in her cot next to Sam, who was fast asleep in our bed. I headed back to the living room to turn off the TV when I heard it again.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

It was so quiet that had I not already been on high alert, I doubt I'd have even heard it. I couldn't figure out where the sound was coming from.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The window. I pulled back the curtains hesitantly and what I saw will forever be ingrained in my memory.

It was June- her face contorted into a horrific open-mouthed frown. Saliva drooled down her chin, over her dry chapped lips. Her eyes bulged from her skull.

You'd think I'd have screamed, but I didn't. I froze.

She tapped a long, yellow fingernail on the window again.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

I watched in shock as her mouth opened wider, just millimetres away from causing her jaw to dislocate. Through the window I heard a small groan escape her gaping mouth.

"Where's baby?" she croaked.

I began to sob. Then wail. I collapsed to the floor in tears, struggling to breathe.

The next thing I remember is Sam running into the room and kneeling down next to me, telling me to breathe.

"In for four, out for four." he urged.

I pointed to the window, but June was gone.

-

I didn't leave the house for days after that. The look on June's face played over and over again in my head, causing me to hyperventilate. Sam took a day off work to help me with Rose, but because money was tight that's all the time off he could afford. In the day, Rose was a fantastic distraction. But at night, I'd lie awake expecting to hear that awful tapping.

Eventually, after running out of baby wipes, I was forced to go outside. I tucked Rose in her pram and walked briskly to the shop, hoping to get there and back without interacting with anybody.

When I got there, I quickly grabbed the wipes and headed to the self-service machines. As I scanned them, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around.

"Hello, dear."

My heart sank as I stood face to face with June.

"How's my baby?"

"She's not your baby, leave us alone!" I yelled. I quickly tapped my card and pushed past her.

I didn't care that people were staring at me. I didn't care about the murmurs and gasps, or the fact I'd drawn attention to myself. I didn't want that psycho anywhere near me or my baby.

What struck me as odd was how normal June had looked in the shop. To others, it must have seemed like I was being rude to a sweet old lady for no reason. But they hadn't seen her that night - that twisted, haunting expression on her face.

Later that day, there was a knock at the door. Dread filled my body, but I was so tired and angry that I forced myself to muster up the courage to tell June to fuck off. Yet, when I opened the door, it wasn't her.

"Hi, Gemma, is it? My name's Margaret, I live just down the way. I hope I'm not interrupting."

Margaret was a very small, plump old woman with a friendly face.

"Hi," I said, filled with relief that it wasn't June. "It's fine, what can I do for you?"

"Well, dear," she pushed her glasses up on her nose. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm here on behalf of June."

"Oh."  

"Now, she told me about what happened at Tesco this morning. She's worried that she's done something to upset you."

I let out a laugh, surprising Margaret.

"I'm sorry, Margaret." I said. "Did she tell you what she did?"

"Well, no."

"She turned up at my house in the middle of the night. Twice. Uninvited. She scared me half to death tapping on my window at God knows what hour."

"I see." Margaret said. We stood in silence for a few seconds, then she began talking again.

"Gemma, you have to understand, dear. June is not well."

You can say that again, I thought to myself.

"She gets very confused. She's done the same to other people, too. Including me. She's turned up at my door gone midnight with freshly baked cookies, or scarves she's knitted for me. She doesn't keep track of time very well, you see. She's a lovely woman, she really is, but she's sick. You know, mentally. Alzheimer's, they say. She doesn't mean any harm, she's just excited to see a baby in the neighbourhood again. Especially since..."

Margaret drifted off.

"Since what?" I probed.

"Oh, gosh, dear. It's really not my place to say, but-" she shuffled closer to the door.

"She's lived here all her life, you know. Born and raised in these parts. When she was- well, about your age, dear- she lost her baby in a horrific accident. Her son- Howard, his name was- died in his sleep. They call it cot death. June hasn't been the same since. Particularly after Richard, her husband, died a few years back. He looked after her, you see. Now she's on her own, she gets very lonely."

I took a moment to take it all in. I couldn't imagine losing Rose. My life would be over, and I know I'd never, ever recover.

I sighed.

"That's awful," I said. "It really is. But still, I don't mean to sound unreasonable but I have my own baby to look out for. She's my number one priority, and I can't have June coming over and disturbing us at ridiculous hours of the night."

"I completely understand." replied Margaret. She thought for a second. "How about this: I'll have a word with June and tell her not to come by here anymore. But- and I know it's a lot to ask- do you think you could at least be civil with her when you see her out and about? She's a delicate soul, love, and she's really out of sorts after this morning. She doesn't mean any harm, she really doesn't. She's just a bit odd, dear. But wouldn't you be, too? You know, after something like that?"

I thought on it for a moment.

"Okay." I said.  

"Atta girl!" Margaret said with a wink. She reached over and patted my arm. "Thank you, Gemma. You're a kind young lady. Much appreciated."

-

"That's awful!" Sam said, when I told him that night. "That explains a lot, though, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, how obsessed she is with Rose. Why she always calls her 'he'. She's thinking about her son, isn't she? It must be bringing back bitter sweet memories for her. Memories of, like, before he died and all that."

"Yeah, I guess." I said. "I dunno, am I awful for still not liking her? I feel bad for her, sure.. but I really don't want anything more to do with her. She said 'my baby' at the shop, Sam."

"Maybe it was a figure of speech? Like, oh, how's my favourite baby doing?"

"Maybe." I was doubtful. I let out a sigh and Sam wrapped his arm around me.

"You're allowed to set boundaries, babe, and you have. No more visits from June, which is what we wanted. Saying the odd 'hello' here and there when you see out around is a small price to pay to know we won't be disturbed anymore. Problem solved."

As he said those last two words, there was a knock on the front door. I threw Sam a concerned look.

"I'll get it." He said, standing up.

He came back seconds later holding a plate with a cupcake on it.

"No one was there, just this. There's a note, look."

He handed it to me and I read it aloud.

"'Sorry for upsetting you. I hope we can be friends. Love, June. P.S. Please return the plate when you are finished with it.'"

I looked up at Sam.

"Oh, good!" I snorted. "Now I have to see her to return the bloody plate!"

Sam laughed.

"At least she's apologised." He said. "And, yeah, she came over again, but she didn't say or do anything creepy this time. That's an improvement!"

"You can have the cake." I said. "I'm going to bed."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed to the bedroom. I peeked in at Rose in her cot and smiled as she let out a couple of tiny snores. My sweet, sweet girl. I couldn't imagine ever losing her. I was grateful for Margaret's visit earlier, it really made me think about how lucky I am. And, despite everything, as I drifted off to sleep that night, I found my last thought to be 'poor June'.

When I woke the next morning, I was surprised to see Sam still in bed next to me. Normally, we groggily kiss at 6:30am when he wakes up to let me know he's leaving for work, so it was unusual to see him still there at 7am.

"Hey, babe." I whispered, giving him a gentle shake.

He groaned in response.

"You're late for work."

"Mm," he grunted, rolling over. "Not going."

Rose let out a small cry, letting me know it was time to get up. I kissed Sam on the forehead and went about my day.

When I finally had a moment to spare, I decided to return June's plate. I went into the bedroom and woke up a pale, sweaty Sam.

"Oh God, you look awful." I said. "Are you okay?"

"Thanks." He muttered. "Yeah, I'm alright. Had the shits last night and was sick a couple times. Just need to take it easy."

"Thanks for that! I'm sorry you feel rough, but could I ask you for a quick favour?"

"What?"

"I need to return that plate, but I don't want to take Rose over with me. Do you mind keeping an eye on her for two seconds while I pop over? She's in the front room in her bounce chair, I've put the telly on for her and she seems quite happy so I doubt you'll have to do anything strenuous, just make sure she's doing okay."

"Of course." Sam said, pulling himself out of bed. "Good luck with June."

-

"Oh, hello!" June cried, as she opened her door.

She looked around.

"No baby today?"

I mentally rolled my eyes.

"Not today, she's at home with my husband. I just came to give you this back."

"My plate! Thank you, Rachel. I do hope you enjoyed the cupcake."

"Uh, it's Gemma. And yeah, it was great." I lied. "Thanks."

"Oh, Gemma, yes of course. You'll have to excuse me, dear, my memory certainly isn't what it used to be!"

"No problem." I have her a smile. "Well, I really should be getting back. Thanks, again."

"Cheerio!" She said, retreating into her house with a wave.  

I spent the rest of the day caring for Rose and Sam, and found myself in a surprisingly good mood. Things felt manageable again.

A couple of weeks passed and I'd mostly managed to put the thought of June out of my mind. I bumped into her occasionally, would say hello, let her have a look at Rose, and then be on my way. Things seemed fine.

I started taking Rose to Rhyme Time at the local library on Thursday mornings. It was a lovely little group where Mums and Dads took their kids to sing nursery rhymes, have a play, and even get a bit of social time in. The library was right in the middle of the village as well, which is handy as it means it's right across the road from us.

One Thursday, while singing Wheels On The Bus, I noticed June enter the library. She gave me a wave as we made eye contact, and I waved back. She returned some books and then went on her way. I thought to myself how nice things were now, and felt bad for ever being worried about her. Maybe that time I saw her at the window I'd just imagined her expression? Maybe my tired brain saw something that wasn't really there.

The next Thursday, we went back to Rhyme Time. We sung There's A Dinosaur, which, for those of you who aren't familiar, is a nursery rhyme that encourages kids to 'point to the ceiling, point to the floor, point to the window, point to the door'. As I sat there with Rose between my legs, I showed her all the places to point. I turned to point to the window and saw June standing outside, looking in at us. I waved, with a smile.

She didn't smile back.  

She stood there, staring at me with a face like thunder.

Her gaze drifted to Rose.

Suddenly, she let out a horrifying scream. The other parents turned to look.

BANG.

She smashed her head into the window.

BANG BANG BANG.

The glass cracked as her skull thudded against it. Her forehead began to bleed.

BANG BANG BANG BANG.

The other parents gasped, scooping their children up in their arms. A library assistant ran out to help, but June batted them away. Passersby rushed over and, after quite a struggle, managed to restrain her.

"MY BABY!" she howled. "I WANT MY BABY!"

Most of the children and even a few of the parents cried in horror. I heard someone call 999 and ask for an ambulance. Terrified, I held Rose tight to me.  

Later that day, I heard from Margaret that June was taken to hospital to get stitches in her head. She was going to be there for a couple of days, at least. There was talk about a care plan being put in place. A care home was also mentioned. Clearly, June needed some sort of help.

"Richard took such good care of her." Margaret informed me. "He really was her rock."

"I'm sure he was." I said. "I hope she gets the help she needs."

"Me too, dear."

I called Sam, who was away for a few days on a work call.

"Oh, Gem. That sounds absolutely traumatising. I'm so sorry I'm not there."

"It's alright," I said. "We're okay. I'm glad June's somewhere safe for the time being, though. I must admit.. especially with you being gone, I'm relieved that she's not across the road."  

"Sounds like she's in the best place for her." Sam replied. "And for you. Get a good rest in this evening, as much as Rose will let you, anyway. I'll be back as soon as I can. Should be tomorrow sometime, depending on traffic."

"Okay, babe. I love you. Go carefully."

"I will. Love you, too."

-

By the time the evening arrived, I was absolutely exhausted. The sound of June's scream was all I could hear, and it sent shivers down my spine. The pain she must have felt to do something like that... It sounded like she was dying.

I tossed and turned in bed, listening to Rose's steady breathing as she snoozed. I would rather die than lose her.

I drifted off into a disturbed sleep, dreaming of June at the library. I dreamt her skin peeled back from her face, exposing flesh and bone. Then I dreamt of an old cot with a pile of books in it. June screamed as she tore out pages of them, asking over and over again in a panicked voice 'Where's my baby?'

I woke at 3:45am in a cold sweat. I sat with my hand on my chest as I steadied my breathing.

With my senses heightened, I listened to the sounds that surrounded me: tiny breaths coming from Rose, the whirring of my bedside fan that I can't sleep without, the dripping of our leaky kitchen tap I had meant to get looked at, and the garden gate blowing in the wind.

Open, shut. Open, shut.

Feeling wide awake, I decided that I might as well get ready for the day. At least with it being so early I could take my time, have a wash, make some breakfast, and maybe even get a bit of tidying done.  

I took a long shower, enjoying every drop of warm water that trickled down my body. I couldn't remember the last time I hadn't rushed myself. I must have been in there for thirty minutes at least, taking full advantage of having what felt like all the time in the world.  

Afterwards, I headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. As I stood over the sink, I looked out into the garden. I watched something rustle in the overgrown bushes. Perhaps that hedgehog Sam found once? I made a mental note to do some gardening soon. The bird feeder needed topping up, too. I stared at the gate as it swung.

Open, shut. Open, shut.

Hadn't I locked it before bed? Maybe I'd forgotten.

Open, shut. Open, shut.

I took a closer look and noticed the lock hanging off. That's odd.

Open, shut. Open, shut.

There was something else there, too. Something on the ground.  

I squinted.

A sheet? No, not a sheet. More like a dress, maybe.  

I leant forward, pressing my nose up to the window.  

Oh my god.

It was a hospital gown.

My heart pounded against my rib cage and my throat tightened. I felt like vomiting. I ran into the bedroom.

The window was smashed, blood dripping down what was left of the glass.  

I rushed over to Rose's cot and let out a gut-wrenching scream.

She was gone.

-

The terror that I felt was indescribable. My baby girl, my world, my everything. Gone. I felt lost, I felt broken, I felt distraught.  

Realising I had to act fast, I tried not to let my emotions cloud my thinking. I snatched my phone from the bedside table and dialed 999 as I fled the house.

"999, what service do you require?"

"Police!" I screamed through tears. "My baby is gone! Please, help me!"

I sprinted to June's house and tried the door. It was locked.

"My neighbour! She's taken my baby!" I cried, smashing into the door with my shoulder. It wouldn't budge. I yelled the address down the phone. I searched desperately for a way to get into the house.

The kitchen window. It was open.

I hurtled myself through it, my body thudding hard against the floor as I landed. A foul stench filled my nostrils. I scrambled to my feet and looked around.

What I saw was unlike anything I had ever seen, or have seen since.  

There was human faeces smeared across the dilapidated walls. The floor was barely visible under a carpet of old food, stacks of plate encrusted with mould, and soiled adult sized nappies. The kitchen counters were covered in dead flies.  

She'd been baking for neighbours in this mess. She'd been baking for us in this mess. I suppressed a gag.

I frantically searched the rooms of the house, trying to ignore the lingering thought that my girl was gone forever. She couldn't be. I refused to believe it.

Then, I heard it. A soft cry. My heart fluttered.  

It was her. It was Rose.

I reached the last room of the house and flung open the door. I stopped dead in my tracks.

It was a nursery. There was a dusty cot in the corner with a mobile hanging over it. Shelves as tall as the ceiling were stuffed full of handmade teddy bears and toys. I peered into the cot, praying to God that my girl was in there. I put a shaky hand to my mouth.

There was a baby, but it wasn't my Rose.  

It took me a beat to realise it was a doll. It looked so real, dressed in a blue onesie with a dummy resting in its mouth. I heard a sound from behind me.

"Shh, shh, shh."

I spun around.

There, in the doorway, stood a naked June with her back to me. Her bony spine protruding from her body. She was hunched over and shaking, shushing. Her wrinkled skin was riddled with cuts and bruises and dirt.

"June." I sobbed. "Please."  

I heard sirens wail in the distance, and sobbed even harder. Help was coming.

She slowly turned around.

Blood oozed from her open stitches, dribbling down her gaunt face. She slowly rocked from side to side.

"Shh." She whispered.

There, cradled in her arms, was Rose. She saw me and began to fuss. I let out a shuddered breath through my tears. She was alive.

"You'll wake him." June croaked.

"Please," I begged, inching closer, not taking my eyes off Rose. "Please give her back to me."  

"My sweet, sweet boy."

A loud bang came from downstairs followed by a cry of "police!"

I rushed at June, snatching Rose from her. I collapsed to the floor, wrapping my body around my baby. I buried my face in the top of her head, breathing in her sweet milky scent. I cried harder than I'd ever cried before.

Heavy footsteps sprinted up the stairs. I look one last look at June before she was apprehended.

Tears dripped down her cheeks, merging with the blood. She looked at me.

"Take care of him." she whispered.

-

I spent the next several days not leaving Rose's side once.  

Sam felt guilty.

"I should have been there," he said through tears. "I should have been there to protect you both."

I told him it wasn't his fault. Somehow, I think June would always have found a way.

The police took a statement from me. I told them about every incident - all of those moments I'd brushed aside. I should have hated myself for not following my gut instinct. For not saying something to someone sooner. For taking such a long time in the shower. For not hearing the bedroom window smash. For allowing Rose to be taken. I should have hated myself, but I didn't.

All I cared about was that Rose was safe. The love I felt for her filled me up so much that I didn't have room to hate myself. Or Sam, for not being there. I didn't even have room to hate June.

I was informed by the police that she was admitted to a mental facility where she had round the clock care. I was glad to hear it. For everyone's sake.

You might be surprised to hear that I visited June last week. On my own, of course. Without Rose.

You might also be surprised to hear that after everything, I visited her with a gift.

A nurse guided me to her room. It was nice. It was clean. June sat in a chair in the corner, staring blankly into nothingness.

"Hi, June." I said.

She didn't look up.

"I've brought you something."

I walked over to her.

I placed my gift in her hands: a small, life-like doll in a blue onesie and knitted cardigan. The same cardigan June had once given me.  

A gentle smile spread across her face.

"My baby."

She looked up at me.  

"Thank you." She said.