I Left My Wife and Our 7-Day-Old Baby Boy in My Mother and Sister’s Care for Only Four Days, Believing They Would Look After Them. “Don’t Worry, They’re in Good Hands,”

I managed an awkward smile.

“I know, Mom. I just want Natalie to be comfortable.”

I gave her $200.

“This should cover groceries and anything Miles needs. If you run short, call me.”

She folded the notes.

“Of course. Go do your job. We’ll handle everything here.”

Mallory eyed the cash.

“Only two hundred? Groceries aren’t exactly cheap anymore.”

“It’s four days,” I replied. “And the kitchen is already stocked.”

She shrugged. I kissed my wife and touched our baby’s forehead.

“I’ll call tonight. I love you both.”

“We love you too. Drive safely.”

Walking to my truck, I glanced back at Beverly in the doorway. A strange unease followed me, but I blamed new-father nerves.

The Calls That Became Shorter

After my first long shift in Dayton, I called Natalie. She picked up after four rings, sounding worn out.

“Hey, Wes.”

“How are my favorite two people?”