Dad’s jaw tightened.
The deputy raised a hand, telling everyone to stay quiet.
My stepmother leaned over my sleeping baby and stood there for nearly twenty seconds. Then she looked toward the house, pulled something from her robe pocket, and placed it on the ground beside the bassinet.
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
“What’s on the ground?” Dad asked.
The deputy replayed the final seconds and enlarged the image as much as the phone allowed.
It was a folded kitchen towel.
My stomach dropped.
I recognized it immediately.
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