I turned the paper over, looking for a signature, but there was none.

“Grace?” Ethan asked, his voice coming from across the room.

I quickly shoved the paper into my apron pocket.

“Everything is fine,” I said, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I looked down at the empty envelope in my hand.

On the inside of the flap, a small telephone number was written in blue ink.

Before I could say anything else, the landline phone on the nursery wall began to ring.

The sound was sharp and loud in the quiet room.

Ethan walked over to answer it, his brow furrowed.

He picked up the receiver and pressed it to his ear.

“Yes?” Ethan said.

His face went completely pale, his eyes widening as he listened to the voice on the other end.

Ethan’s fingers tightened around the black plastic receiver until his knuckles turned white.

He did not speak another word.

He slowly lowered the phone back onto its brass cradle, his breathing shallow and rapid.

“Ethan?” I asked, stepping closer to the cribs.

“That was the security gate,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.