Amira stopped.
Every instinct in her body screamed at her to run.
But she couldn’t move.
“Daniel…” she whispered.
He stepped in front of her, protective, though fear flickered across his face.
“What are you?” he said under his breath.
The baby’s smile widened.
And then—
He stood.
Slowly.
Unnaturally steady.
Too steady.
Amira’s hand tightened on Daniel’s arm. “He can’t… he can’t do that.”
But he was.
And he was watching them.
Not like a child looks at parents.
But like something studying its prey.
Or its new home.
Daniel swallowed hard. “We need to—”
Before he could finish, the baby took a step forward.
Then another.
Small.
Deliberate.
The air in the hallway seemed to grow colder.
Amira’s voice broke. “This isn’t our child.”
Daniel didn’t answer.
Because deep down—
He knew.
They hadn’t brought something home.
