09/09/2025
THE COP KNEELED DOWN AND SAID, “WHERE’S YOUR MOM, LITTLE GUY?”
I wasn’t trying to get involved. I was only dropping off some old clothes at my friend Nadira’s place when I noticed a patrol car outside and her front door standing wide open. At first I thought maybe someone had been hurt, but then I saw the baby.
He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, wobbling in those striped pajamas like he owned the place. A cop, a bald man with a soft voice, was kneeling in front of him and asking gently, “Where’s your mom, little guy?”
No one answered. The house was too quiet.
I stepped closer and whispered, “That’s not her baby.”
The officer looked at me quickly, eyes narrowing. “You know this family?”
I nodded, my heart pounding. Nadira lives here with her little brother. She babysits sometimes, but I have never seen this child before. And from the look on the cop’s face, neither had he.
There was no crying and no chaos, only this strange heavy stillness. The baby seemed calm, like he trusted the cop. He even grabbed his hand with those tiny fingers. That’s when I noticed the diaper bag in the corner, and a bottle, and a folded note tucked halfway under the high chair tray.
The officer stood up and radioed something I couldn’t make out. Then he turned to me and asked, “Do you know if there’s a back door?”
That’s when I remembered what Nadira had told me last week. About the girl who came to her door crying. About the favor she was asked to keep secret.
And in that moment, everything clicked.
(continues in the first 🗨⬇️)
🗼🚜🚡