Chapter 4I Was Born To Replace Her

Later that afternoon, my parents went into the nursery to organize my clothes, leaving Hannah and me alone in the living room.

I wiggled, reaching my tiny hands out toward her, making soft "Sis, sis" sounds.

Hannah walked over to the bassinet, her expression guarded and complex. "You don't hate me? After what I did to you?"

I shook my head as best as my little body could, continuing to reach for her, begging for a hug.

Hannah froze. "You... you want me to hold you?"

I blinked, letting out a happy coo.

She hesitated, her bruised fingers trembling as she slowly reached down toward me.

But just as her hand was about to touch my blanket, a heavy slipper flew across the room, striking her squarely in the face.

Hannah stumbled backward, gasping as her head snapped to the side.

"You liar!" my father screamed, rushing into the room. "You said you wouldn't hurt her! I knew you were pretending! Were you trying to choke her again?!"

"I wasn't!" Hannah shrieked, her voice cracking as she collapsed into tears. "She was reaching for me! She wanted me to hold her! I was just trying to hold her!"

"Don't lie to me!"

My father didn't listen. He snatched me out of the bassinet, shielding me behind his back.

"She’s a newborn! She doesn't know how to ask for hugs! You almost killed her last time, and now you're trying to finish the job!" His chest heaved, his lips trembling with rage.

My mother emerged from the nursery. She didn't yell. She just stood there, looking at Hannah with a profound, quiet disappointment.

But that silent disappointment was far more lethal than any slap.

I panicked. Why couldn't they see? I began to squirm violently, crying out to stop them from hurting her.

But my father only held me tighter. "Did she scare you, my sweet girl? Daddy's here. You're safe."

"I didn't do anything! I didn't hurt her!" Hannah screamed, taking a desperate step forward to explain.

But my father instinctively took a step back, shielding me further.

Just half a step.

But it was enough to freeze Hannah in her tracks.

The frantic energy drained from her body, leaving her completely hollow.

"You don't believe me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You never believed me... All those promises about still loving me... they were all lies."

She turned and bolted out the front door.

"Hannah! Don't you dare walk out that door!" my father roared after her.

But she was already gone, her footsteps echoing down the stairwell.

My mother made a move toward the door, but my father grabbed her arm. "Don't go after her. She has nowhere else to go. She'll be back when she gets hungry."

But a week passed, and Hannah never came home.

And my parents never went to look for her.

"It’s been over a week," my mother murmured one evening, staring blankly at the dinner table. "Do you think she’s okay?"

My father didn't lift his head, expertly taping a fresh diaper onto me. "What could happen to her? She's probably throwing a tantrum at your mother's place. She's got a wild streak; nobody's going to mess with her."

My mother didn't reply. "I should call my mom just to check."

Before she could reach for her phone, the doorbell rang.

My father smiled, picking me up. "See? What did I tell you? She ran out of steam and came back on her own. We worried for nothing."

My mother let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for days and rushed to open the door.

But it wasn't Hannah.

Grandma Ruth stood on the doormat, holding a plastic bag filled with baby rattles and stuffed animals.

"I came to see my little angel!" she smiled, stepping inside. "My, she's grown so much in just a few days."

Then, her face turned serious. "Oh, by the way, you two need to lock your doors. The neighborhood watch said there's a predator wandering around the West District—some sick monster targeting young kids. Keep Gracie close."

My father waved his hand dismissively. "We're with Gracie twenty-four hours a day. No one is getting near her."

My mother, however, was still looking past Grandma Ruth into the empty hallway. "Mom... where's Hannah? Didn't she come with you?"

Grandma Ruth frowned. "What do you mean? Why would she be with me?"

The color drained from my mother’s face.

"Hannah ran away a week ago... we thought she was staying with you."

Grandma Ruth sighed, shaking her head. "She's run away before. She's probably at one of her aunts' houses. Just text the family group chat and ask. She's just trying to scare you."

My mother’s hands shook as she unlocked her phone.

But before she could open her messages, the phone began to ring.

It was an unknown local number.

My mother pressed answer, her voice trembling. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this the family of Hannah Lynn? This is the precinct detective's office. We have recovered the body of a young female matching her description. We need you to come in for an identification."