Slightly less troublesome than the younger boy, Garrett, but not to be trusted just the same.
She led Brady into her old bedroom. The light was low, the bed was covered in white eyelet just as it had been years before when she lived at home with her mother. Knowing she was coming, Myra had filled vases with roses from the garden and placed them around the room. Their fragrance perfumed the air.
“This is why I rushed home from the hospital,” she said softly.
His brow furrowed as he looked at the bed, which suddenly seemed to glow with remembered passion. She moved aside so he could see what occupied the far corner.
So he could see the crib.
“Myra needed help getting Nathan to sleep,” she said.
She watched his face as realization dawned. It was like watching the sunrise. He glanced at her and she nodded once, sniffing back tears before they could glisten in her eyes.
He moved toward the crib like a sleepwalker and stood staring down at the slumbering infant within.
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