Chapter 3 - THE NURSERY RACHEL HAD NEVER SEEN
Rachel did not go to Diane’s house.
She wanted to.
Instead, she went home with Caleb and changed the lock code.
That was the first consequence.
Not a dramatic confrontation.
Not a family screaming match.
A six-digit number Diane no longer knew.
The nursery was at the end of the upstairs hallway.
Rachel stood in the doorway after they got home and looked at it differently.
The pale-green walls.
The white crib.
The bookshelf Caleb assembled badly enough that the bottom shelf tilted slightly.
The empty spaces.
She began making a list.
Two muslin blankets.
Missing.
Newborn swaddles from Aunt Susan.
Missing.
Portable bottle warmer.
Missing.
A floral diaper caddy.
Missing.
Three packages of diapers.
Possibly missing.
Caleb sat on the rug.
“I didn’t notice all of that.”
“Neither did I.”
Rachel hated admitting it.
She had spent her third trimester tired.
Her ankles hurt.
Her job as an insurance claims supervisor had shifted partly remote, but she still worked nine-hour days from the dining room.
Diane offered to help.
She washed baby clothes.
Organized drawers.
Accepted deliveries.
Returned “duplicates.”
Rachel had been grateful.
That gratitude now felt contaminated.
Caleb opened the store registry.
Several items showed RETURNED.
Rachel stared.
“I never returned these.”
He scrolled.
Neither had he.
One of the returned items was the gray diaper bag from Rachel’s mother.
Rachel’s mother had died three years earlier. Her father had saved money from selling the family house and sent Rachel the bag after she became pregnant because he remembered her pointing at it online.
Rachel had cried when it arrived.
Then it disappeared.
Diane said maybe Rachel left it in her car.
Rachel looked at Caleb.
“That bag.”
His face fell.
“I didn’t know.”
Rachel pressed both hands against the edge of the changing table.
“What did Mark say about the credits?”
“That’s what we need to ask.”
They returned to the supermarket the following afternoon after Rachel’s obstetrician confirmed she was stable.
Mark met them near customer service.
He could not hand over another customer’s private transaction history casually.
He made that clear.
But because some items were connected to Rachel’s registry and Caleb’s purchase records, he could help them identify returns involving their household purchases.
The list was longer than either expected.
Eighteen transactions.
Approximately $1,170 in merchandise.
Some refunds went back to original cards.
Others became store merchandise credits because Diane lacked receipts.
Rachel asked, “Do you know what those credits bought?”
Mark shook his head.
“Not from this desk without a proper review.”
Then he looked at Caleb.
“But I remember something else.”
“What?”
“Your mom wasn’t always alone.”
Caleb frowned.
“Who was with her?”
“A woman about your age. Blonde. Maybe your sister?”
Caleb’s face hardened.
His younger sister, Lauren, lived twenty minutes away.
Rachel had always thought Lauren stayed out of the tension between Diane and Rachel.
Apparently, she had been standing beside it.
Mark added, “The first time, they were arguing about whether a crib mattress would fit.”
Rachel and Caleb looked at each other.
A crib mattress.
Not groceries.
Not cash.
Baby equipment.
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Diane had not simply been returning things because she believed Rachel was overspending.
She had been selecting where the baby’s belongings would go.
