in frustration and made a concerted effort to pay attention to what Kim Harrison was saying. The death of this woman’s baby was the primary reason she’d returned to the support group.
“… like Jared said last week. I think a lot about the could-have-beens. What her laugh would have sounded like, what her favorite food would have been, whether she’d have been good at sports.” Kim looked over at Elise then. “Do you ever do that? Think about what your baby might have done, who she’d have been?”
Elise’s breath snagged. “I … yeah. A lot. Almost constantly. When I’m not wondering what went wrong, what I could have done differently during my pregnancy that might have saved her, why this happened to me when she was my one shot at being a mother.”
Mrs. Bagwell frowned. “Why do you think you won’t have other children? You’re still young.”
Elise gripped the edge of her seat, startled by the older woman’s question. Taking a breath for composure, she studied the woman’s face and saw nothing but concern and confusion, not judgment. “Well, the procedure I used to get pregnant with Grace took most of my savings. Since I’m unmarried, not in a relationship and not into one-night stands, the chances of getting pregnant the natural way are pretty nonexistent.”
Mrs. Bagwell seemed unfazed by her bluntness. “I see. I’ve learned, though, never to underestimate the surprises and twists of fate life can hold. Why, by this time next year, you could be happily wed and expecting again.” The older woman punctuated her comment with a satisfied nod and sat back in her chair with a confident smile.
Elise could only gape, speechless.
“I suppose that’s true,” Joleen said. “Holding on to optimism is always a good thing, but let’s look at some ways Elise can deal with the issues she’s facing now. Kim, how do you handle those could-have-been thoughts when you have them?”
Kim glanced at her husband. “I talk about them with Greg. And here, with all of you. That helps. Sometimes I post my feelings to the online message board I’ve mentioned before.” Kim directed her attention to Elise. “I’ll give you the link. It’s another support group I found. A message board for parents who’ve lost children whether to death or kidnapping or divorce. There’s lots of information and links to great resources. You should look into it.”
Elise nodded to Kim. “Thanks. I will.”
The meeting continued, with the discussion turning to Mrs. Fenwick’s late husband, before the group adjourned promptly at the end of the hour. As promised, Kim caught up to Elise by the refreshment table and handed her a scrap of paper with a URL printed neatly in pink ink.
“Here’s the address for the message board. I know an online group seems impersonal, but the people are really helpful and sometimes it is easier to be honest about your feelings when you’re not face-to-face with the people you’re sharing with. You can be as anonymous or open with your identity as you want. I hope you’ll try it.”
Elise tucked the paper in her pocket. “Thanks. I’ll check it out.” She smiled her appreciation. This exchange of information, this opportunity to get to know the Harrisons, was exactly the reason she’d come tonight. Seizing the chance to speak privately with Kim, Elise cleared her throat and asked, “So … if you don’t mind my asking … how did your daughter die?”
“I don’t mind. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about it. Because of how your daughter died and all …” Kim said, leaning toward Elise and placing a hand on her arm.
Elise shook her head. “What does Grace’s death have to do with your baby?”
Kim shrugged. “Maybe nothing. But I thought it was an odd coincidence is all.”
“Coincidence?”
“Yeah.” Kim’s face darkened. “Our little girl died at the hospital, too. Just hours after she was born.”
Chapter 2
Elise heard a buzzing in her ears, and her head swam. When her knees buckled, she groped futilely for something to brace against. As she stumbled back a step, she encountered the warm, solid wall of a chest, and a strong hand grasped her elbow, steadying her. The scent of sandalwood surrounded her, piercing her fog of shock. And she knew without looking who supported her.
“Elise?” Jared’s deep voice rumbled near her ear.
“I’m sorry.” Kim rushed forward, concern knitting her brow. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to—”
“No. I … I’m okay. I was just … caught off guard. Everything about losing Grace just flooded back and—” She swallowed hard and blinked at Kim as the truth the woman had shared sank in. “Your baby died at the hospital, too? I … Was she premature?”
Kim shook her head. “Right on time. To the day. But she apparently had a heart defect that our doctor missed during my pregnancy.”
An eerie prickle nipped her neck. “Her heart stopped, and they couldn’t resuscitate her,” she whispered raggedly.
Kim blinked. “Yes. How did you—?” Her eyes widened. “You mean Grace—?”
Elise’s voice stuck in her throat. The only sound she could make came out as a moan.
Behind her, Jared muttered a curse. “That sounds too suspicious to be a coincidence. The odds …”
“What hospital did you use?” Kim asked.
Elise struggled for her composure, sucking in a calming breath. “My labor started while I was out of town at a crafts fair. I went to a little hospital in Pine Mill …”
Kim frowned and shook her head. “No. We were at Crestview General.”
Something like disappointment punctured the breath Elise had been holding. As tragic and macabre as the similarities in their losses were, hope had flickered briefly that she was on to some answers regarding Grace’s mysterious death.
“So many times I’ve wondered if our baby would have made it if we’d been here in Lagniappe at St. Mary’s where they have the PICU,” Kim said.
“What-ifs are natural,” Jared said quietly, “but you can make yourself crazy with them. Don’t torture yourself, Kim.”
She lifted a corner of her mouth in acknowledgment. “Easier said than done.”
“Ready to go?” Greg asked, stepping up behind his wife.
“Sure.” Kim turned back to Elise. “See you next time?”
Elise nodded and, still rather numb with shock, searched for her voice. “I—yeah. Bye.”
As the Harrisons departed, Jared stepped around to face Elise and dipped his head to get a better look at her expression. “Are you okay?”
Elise raked her blond hair back with her fingers. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I really don’t know what to make of this.”
“It is pretty hard to believe. I mean, if this were 1811, maybe. But with modern health and medicine what it is, you’d
