Page 10 of The Edge Of Us

"No, no! He's gone! Someone took him!" My voice was high-pitched, frantic. I was gasping for air, my chest constricting painfully. I scrambled off the bed, my knees nearly buckling beneath me. "I have to find him!"

Allen tried to hold me back, but I fought him, my limbs flailing. My mother and Noah rushed in, alarmed by the commotion.

"Corine, calm down," my mother pleaded, but I barely registered her words.

I was drowning in the panic, the suffocating certainty that my baby had vanished. That he had never been mine to begin with.

Then I saw him.

In the bassinet. Sleeping. Peaceful.

Relief should have washed over me. But instead, fear twisted itself tighter around my throat.

"He's not real," I whispered, stepping away. "He's a doll. A replacement. They took my baby."

My mother covered her mouth, her eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, honey..."

The room spun. The floor felt like it was shifting beneath my feet. My body trembled violently.

And then everything blurred.

I woke up to restraints around my wrists.

Bright lights. The sterile scent of antiseptic. Muffled voices beyond the haze of my confusion.

Allen's face hovered above mine, his eyes filled with unspeakable pain. "They had to sedate you."

I swallowed, my throat raw. "The baby?"

"He's safe. He's with your mom."

Tears slipped down the sides of my face. "I... I almost hurt him, didn't I?"

Allen pressed his forehead against mine, his voice breaking. "No, sweetheart. But you weren't yourself."

I stared at the ceiling, my body feeling foreign. I had fought so hard to maintain control. To be the perfect mother. The perfect wife. To balance the weight of my own mind while the world watched.

But I was unraveling.

And for the first time, I wasn't sure if I could put myself back together.

Chapter 7

Allen's POV

The hospital room was eerily quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional rustle of fabricas Corine shifted in the hospital bed. Kyle lay in her arms, his tiny mouth latched onto her breast, his little hands curling into fists as he suckled. I stood by the door, arms crossed, watching them-watching her. She looked tired, more than tired. The dark circles beneath her eyes had deepened, and her usually vibrant complexion was pale, almost gray.

But it wasn't just exhaustion. It was something more. Something deeper. Something that made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

Corine had been quiet for hours, barely speaking since the doctor left us with news I wasn't ready to hear.

"She needs to be admitted, Allen," Dr. Reynolds had said. "Her episodes are getting more frequent and more severe. She's at risk-both to herself and to your son."

Those words had burned into my mind like a brand. But I had promised Corine I wouldn't let them take her away. I had sworn to her that she wouldn't be sent off to some psychiatric facility. And yet, standing here, watching her with Kyle, I couldn't ignore the gnawing fear in my gut.

She looked fragile. She looked lost.

I exhaled slowly, stepping closer. "Corine," I said gently, trying not to startle her.

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