Chapter 1 · The Mother Who "Murdered" Her Child

Chapter 1

The police told me my daughter was dead, hit by a car outside Southbank Amusement Park. The driver was my best friend, Rachel Moore.

My mind went blank. My daughter was right there next to me, burning up with a fever, her little face flushed in her sleep.

"You must have made a mistake. My daughter is here with me," I said.

But the police said the driver was adamant. She was sure the dead girl was my daughter.

Then I showed up with my daughter beside me. And when Rachel realized the dead child was someone else, she broke down.

*****

The phone rang while I was cooling Emily's forehead with a wet washcloth.

She had a fever, 102°F.

Her little face was flushed, hot to the touch, and her breath came in shallow, feverish puffs.

I hadn't slept a minute, too worried to close my eyes.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number.

I swiped to answer and put it on speaker.

"Hello, is this Julia Saunders?" A man's voice came through the line, formal and clipped.

"Yes, speaking," I replied softly, careful not to wake Emily.

"This is the Millbrook Police Department. We're calling regarding a car accident outside Southbank Amusement Park about an hour ago. A little girl was struck by a car and died at the scene."

My heart lurched. Southbank Amusement Park. A little girl. Those words made my stomach tighten.

"Based on the driver's statement and our initial findings," The man paused, as if searching for the right words. "The victim... may be your daughter, Emily."

My mind emptied. The towel dropped from my hand into the basin. Icy water splashed up my sleeve, sending a chill straight to my bones.

Stiffly, I turned my head. Emily lay there, her breathing soft and even.

She was sound asleep, her little brows slightly furrowed.

She was right there in front of me, my daughter, alive and within reach.

"You must have made a mistake," I said, my voice trembling. "My daughter is right here with me. She's running a fever. And she's been in bed all day."

There was a pause on the other end. "Mrs. Saunders, I understand this is hard. Now the driver is in custody, and she's claiming the child she hit was your daughter."

The words echoed in my skull, louder and louder.

"Who was it? The driver?" I asked.

"Rachel Moore," the man replied. His voice hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest.

Rachel Moore was my best friend. Emily's godmother.

It couldn't be her.

She'd texted me earlier, asking if Emily's fever had broken. She said something urgent came up at work. Otherwise she would've come over.

An hour ago, she should have been at work. How could she be at the amusement park? How could she have hit someone? And they thought the victim was my daughter? None of this made sense.

"No. That's impossible. Something is wrong with your investigation. You need to verify this!" I heard my own voice spiraling out of control.

Emily stirred in her sleep, unsettled by my shouting.

I quickly covered my mouth, took a deep breath, and forced myself to calm down.

"Mrs. Saunders, that's exactly why we're calling. We need you to come to the police department and—"

"I'm not going anywhere," I cut him off. "My daughter is right here, and she's not going anywhere either. Why are you harassing me based on the word of a woman who's clearly not in her right mind?"

That was it. The driver had to be out of her mind to say this.

"Mrs. Saunders, Rachel's mental state is unstable, but we've confirmed her identity. And we found some things in the child's belongings—"

"That's enough." I cut the call and threw the phone onto the nightstand. This whole thing felt like a nightmare.

The room went quiet. I could hear my heart pounding, fast and heavy.

I walked over to the bed, leaned down, and gently touched Emily's burning forehead. She was still here. My baby was safe, and they got it wrong. But the fear was already rising, cold and unstoppable, pulling me under.

*****

Less than ten minutes later, the doorbell rang, loud and persistent.

My husband, David Saunders, emerged from his study with a frown to answer the door.

Two uniformed police officers stood at the door. They looked serious, their eyes cold and assessing.

"What's this about?" David asked.

The lead officer, Marcus Webb, showed his badge and said, "We're from the Criminal Investigation Division. We need to ask Julia Saunders a few questions."

David's face changed. He turned and saw me standing behind him. "Go back to the bedroom," he said. "I'll handle this."

I didn't move. I looked past David at the two men at the door. "I'm Julia Saunders. My daughter is home asleep. You have the wrong person."

Marcus looked at me, then glanced past me, trying to see further into the house. "Mrs. Saunders, I understand your position, but we're not here to argue with you. This is a serious matter.

"Rachel is the suspect, and she's also our only witness to what happened. Her statement carries weight. She says the victim is your daughter. We're here to confirm that."

His words felt like needles, cold, sharp, sliding into me.

"If she said it was the end of the world, would you come to my door for that too?" I retorted, my voice hard.

Ryan Cole, another young officer, frowned. "Mrs. Saunders, please, we need your cooperation. We still don't have a positive ID on the victim, and her body is in the hospital morgue. We need to find her family."

Hearing those words, I felt my stomach turn. A cold sickness rose in my throat.

David squeezed my hand, his palm clammy with sweat. "There's definitely been some kind of misunderstanding. My wife has been home all day with our daughter. The child has a high fever. There's no way they went to the amusement park."

Marcus's expression didn't change. He turned his gaze back to me. "Mrs. Saunders, Rachel identified the victim as Emily Saunders, your daughter.

"She told us you called her earlier today, asking her to pick up Emily from the amusement park. And she claimed that by the time she arrived, the child was already dead."

Hearing this, I felt the blood stop in my veins.

Chapter 1

The police told me my daughter was dead, hit by a car outside Southbank Amusement Park. The driver was my best friend, Rachel Moore.

My mind went blank. My daughter was right there next to me, burning up with a fever, her little face flushed in her sleep.

"You must have made a mistake. My daughter is here with me," I said.

But the police said the driver was adamant. She was sure the dead girl was my daughter.

Then I showed up with my daughter beside me. And when Rachel realized the dead child was someone else, she broke down.

*****

The phone rang while I was cooling Emily's forehead with a wet washcloth.

She had a fever, 102°F.

Her little face was flushed, hot to the touch, and her breath came in shallow, feverish puffs.

I hadn't slept a minute, too worried to close my eyes.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number.

I swiped to answer and put it on speaker.

"Hello, is this Julia Saunders?" A man's voice came through the line, formal and clipped.

"Yes, speaking," I replied softly, careful not to wake Emily.

"This is the Millbrook Police Department. We're calling regarding a car accident outside Southbank Amusement Park about an hour ago. A little girl was struck by a car and died at the scene."

My heart lurched. Southbank Amusement Park. A little girl. Those words made my stomach tighten.

"Based on the driver's statement and our initial findings," The man paused, as if searching for the right words. "The victim... may be your daughter, Emily."

My mind emptied. The towel dropped from my hand into the basin. Icy water splashed up my sleeve, sending a chill straight to my bones.

Stiffly, I turned my head. Emily lay there, her breathing soft and even.

She was sound asleep, her little brows slightly furrowed.

She was right there in front of me, my daughter, alive and within reach.

"You must have made a mistake," I said, my voice trembling. "My daughter is right here with me. She's running a fever. And she's been in bed all day."

There was a pause on the other end. "Mrs. Saunders, I understand this is hard. Now the driver is in custody, and she's claiming the child she hit was your daughter."

The words echoed in my skull, louder and louder.

"Who was it? The driver?" I asked.

"Rachel Moore," the man replied. His voice hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest.

Rachel Moore was my best friend. Emily's godmother.

It couldn't be her.

She'd texted me earlier, asking if Emily's fever had broken. She said something urgent came up at work. Otherwise she would've come over.

An hour ago, she should have been at work. How could she be at the amusement park? How could she have hit someone? And they thought the victim was my daughter? None of this made sense.

"No. That's impossible. Something is wrong with your investigation. You need to verify this!" I heard my own voice spiraling out of control.

Emily stirred in her sleep, unsettled by my shouting.

I quickly covered my mouth, took a deep breath, and forced myself to calm down.

"Mrs. Saunders, that's exactly why we're calling. We need you to come to the police department and—"

"I'm not going anywhere," I cut him off. "My daughter is right here, and she's not going anywhere either. Why are you harassing me based on the word of a woman who's clearly not in her right mind?"

That was it. The driver had to be out of her mind to say this.

"Mrs. Saunders, Rachel's mental state is unstable, but we've confirmed her identity. And we found some things in the child's belongings—"

"That's enough." I cut the call and threw the phone onto the nightstand. This whole thing felt like a nightmare.

The room went quiet. I could hear my heart pounding, fast and heavy.

*****

Less than ten minutes later, the doorbell rang, loud and persistent.

My husband, David Saunders, emerged from his study with a frown to answer the door.

Two uniformed police officers stood at the door. They looked serious, their eyes cold and assessing.

"What's this about?" David asked.

The lead officer, Marcus Webb, showed his badge and said, "We're from the Criminal Investigation Division. We need to ask Julia Saunders a few questions."

David's face changed. He turned and saw me standing behind him. "Go back to the bedroom," he said. "I'll handle this."

I didn't move. I looked past David at the two men at the door. "I'm Julia Saunders. My daughter is home asleep. You have the wrong person."

Marcus looked at me, then glanced past me, trying to see further into the house. "Mrs. Saunders, I understand your position, but we're not here to argue with you. This is a serious matter.

"Rachel is the suspect, and she's also our only witness to what happened. Her statement carries weight. She says the victim is your daughter. We're here to confirm that."

His words felt like needles, cold, sharp, sliding into me.

"If she said it was the end of the world, would you come to my door for that too?" I retorted, my voice hard.

Hearing those words, I felt my stomach turn. A cold sickness rose in my throat.

Marcus's expression didn't change. He turned his gaze back to me. "Mrs. Saunders, Rachel identified the victim as Emily Saunders, your daughter.

"She told us you called her earlier today, asking her to pick up Emily from the amusement park. And she claimed that by the time she arrived, the child was already dead."

Hearing this, I felt the blood stop in my veins.