The Baby Group

‘My baby’s been taken,’ I sob into the phone. Blood is everywhere.<br /><br />My fiancé, Alex, is slumped beside the birthing pool, his head gashed open. The baby? Gone.<br /><br />I cradle my empty stomach, my empty arms. And then Alex looks at me — not with love, but with blame.<br /><br />This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The move. The fresh start. The antenatal classes. The new friends. But nothing about this feels right.<br /><br />And as the sirens wail closer, I realize something terrible — someone planned this. Someone in our new life wanted our baby.<br /><br />And I think they’re in the baby group.