The Night She Could Not Open Her Own Front Door

Three days after giving birth, Paige Larkin came home from the hospital with her newborn daughter sleeping against her chest, a small overnight bag hanging from one tired arm, and a heart that only wanted one thing.

Rest.

Her body still hurt with every step. Her hair was pulled into a loose knot. Her dress was wrinkled from the ride home, and the soft June rain had already started to soak through the shoulders of her cardigan.

But none of that mattered to Paige.

She was home.

Or at least, she thought she was.

The house stood at the end of a quiet street in Raleigh, North Carolina, glowing warmly behind its tall windows. The porch lights were on. The nursery window upstairs was lit, the same nursery Paige had painted pale green with her own hands while eight months pregnant.