A young «mother» left her newborn home alone for three days because she was too busy enjoying her irresponsible lifestyle… But when she returned, the crib was silent.
At first, Maya didn’t understand the silence.
She stood in the doorway of her apartment with her weekend bag slung over one shoulder, her makeup smudged beneath her eyes, and the smell of campfire smoke from the lake still clinging to her clothes. For a few seconds, she simply listened.
No crying came from the bedroom.
No soft little whimpers.
No restless sounds from the crib.
The apartment was exactly as she had left it three days earlier. The same blanket was folded over the back of the chair. The same baby bottle sat beside the crib. The same pale morning light filtered through the curtains and stretched across the floor.
But something was wrong.
The air was unnaturally still in a way that no home with a newborn should ever be.
Maya slowly lowered her bag to the floor.
Just three days earlier, she had walked out of that same apartment, telling herself that she deserved to breathe again.
She was twenty-one years old, beautiful, restless, and used to being noticed. Before the baby, her life had been filled with loud music, late-night drives, cheap perfume, fleeting friendships, and men who loved her only until morning. She liked being the girl everyone called when there was a party. She liked the feeling of walking into a room and knowing people were watching her.
