The thought of what might happen if the baby girl ended up in Starla's hands was terrifying.
What was almost comical, however, was Fairfax's apparent ignorance. Starla wondered what he had actually been doing all night while supposedly searching for the child.
"But don't you worry," Starla said, her voice dripping with mock concern. "I've already reported the missing child to the police for you."
"You what?" Fairfax's voice was tight with disbelief.
"That's right. A missing child is a serious matter. How could we not involve the police?"
Fairfax was speechless. She called the police? She actually dared to? Did this mean she had nothing to do with it? He squeezed her wrist harder, his knuckles white.
A smirk played on Starla's lips. "Do you want to know why I called them?"
"Why?"
"Because…" Instead of answering, she picked up her phone and played the recording of her earlier conversation with Brinley.
Perhaps Brinley had been too frantic to think clearly. She was usually so careful not to say anything incriminating over the phone, leaving no evidence for Starla to use against her. But that morning, she had slipped up, and Starla had recorded every single word.
The recording filled the tense silence. Brinley's voice, strained and desperate, echoed from the small speaker.
"I’ll give you the baby. You just have to divorce Fairfax. You can arrange for someone to pick her up. She’s at…"
"No, thanks."
Starla's voice cut in, crisp and clear.

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