Chapter 1 - The Woman Who Knew What the Babies Needed
Naomi Bell had spent six months learning how to survive other people's emergencies.
She knew how to recognize the silence that came before a panic attack.
She knew how to tell when a child was hungry instead of frightened.
She knew that some cries were asking for food, some for sleep, and some for the one thing no bottle, blanket, or expensive toy could provide.
A familiar heartbeat.
That was why she couldn't keep sitting there.
Across the first-class car, the three babies cried again.
Naomi closed her eyes.
For one terrible second, she was back in a hospital room.
White walls.
A plastic chair.
A monitor making one long, merciless sound.
Her own baby's tiny fingers slipping from hers.
She opened her eyes.
No.
Not again.
She stood.
The passenger beside her looked up.
"Miss?"
Naomi ignored him.
She walked toward the private compartment.
The closer she got, the louder the crying became.
When she reached the door, Victor Rowe stepped directly into her path.
"Private cabin."
"I know."
"You need to return to your seat."
Naomi looked past him.
"I need to see those babies."
Victor's expression hardened.
"No."
Behind him, Roman Vale turned.
Their eyes met through the narrow opening.
Naomi had seen photographs of him before.
Everyone had.
Roman Vale was the sort of man whose face appeared in newspapers without anyone ever printing the whole story. Wealthy. Dangerous. Untouchable.
But the man standing before her didn't look untouchable.
He looked terrified.
And in his arms was a baby whose lips were beginning to lose their color.
Naomi pointed.
"He's not hungry."
Roman's eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"Your baby."
Victor moved closer.
"You should leave."
Naomi didn't.
"He's not refusing the bottle because he doesn't want food."
Roman stared at her.
"Then why?"
"Because something hurts."
The cabin went silent.
Even the babies seemed to pause for half a breath.
Roman looked down.
Naomi stepped closer.
"May I?"
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Naomi nodded.
"Then watch his stomach."
Roman looked.
Jude's tiny abdomen was tight.
Naomi continued.
"He's swallowing air. His stomach is distended. He's probably in pain. The other two are doing the same thing."
Roman's face changed.
"You a doctor?"
"No."
"Nurse?"
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
Naomi swallowed.
"Because my daughter had the same symptoms."
Roman froze.
Victor's eyes narrowed.
"What happened to her?"
Naomi looked away.
"She didn't make it."
The words were barely audible.
Roman stared at her.
For the first time since Naomi had entered the cabin, he seemed to forget who she was.
He was simply a father.
"What did she have?"
"Milk-protein intolerance. Severe reflux. We didn't know soon enough."
Naomi's voice trembled.
"The doctors kept changing formulas. She kept crying. Everyone kept saying babies cried."
She looked at Jude.
"They were wrong."
Roman's jaw tightened.
"What should I do?"
Naomi looked directly at him.
"Stop feeding them."
Victor immediately stepped forward.
"Absolutely not."
"They're already dehydrated."
"Exactly."
"No," Naomi said. "They're not crying because they're starving. Their bodies are rejecting what you're giving them."
Roman looked at Victor.
Then at the three infants.
Then back at Naomi.
"What do you need?"
"Warm water. A clean cloth. And whoever is responsible for these babies' medical care."
Victor immediately pulled out his phone.
Roman lowered himself into the seat.
Naomi approached Jude.
"Can I hold him?"
Roman hesitated.
A man like Roman Vale did not hesitate.
Not when men threatened him.
Not when millions were at stake.
Not when enemies came for his territory.
But now his arms tightened protectively around his son.
Finally, he handed Jude over.
Naomi took the baby carefully.
Jude whimpered.
"It's okay," she whispered.
She placed one hand beneath his head and another against his back.
Then she did something so ordinary that everyone in the cabin stared.
She began humming.
Softly.
Barely above a whisper.
The baby stopped crying.
Roman went completely still.
Mason stopped next.
Then Cole.
The entire first-class car seemed to freeze.
A businessman lowered his newspaper.
The attendant stopped walking.
Even Victor stared through the open door.
Naomi kept humming.
Jude's tiny fingers curled around her jacket.
Roman's face drained of color.
"That's impossible."
Naomi looked up.
"What?"
Roman's voice was barely a whisper.
"That song."
Naomi stopped humming.
Roman stared at her as though he had just seen a ghost.
"Where did you learn it?"
Naomi's heart began beating faster.
"My mother."
Roman stepped closer.
"What was her name?"
Naomi frowned.
"Why?"
"Please."
There was something different in his voice now.
Something almost desperate.
Naomi hesitated.
"Marianne Bell."
Roman stopped breathing.
Victor slowly lowered his phone.
The color disappeared from his face.
"No," he whispered.
Roman turned toward him.
"What?"
Victor stared at Naomi.
"Boss..."
Roman's eyes remained fixed on the woman holding his son.
Victor swallowed.
"Marianne Bell died twenty-nine years ago."
Naomi's expression changed.
"My mother died when I was sixteen."
Victor shook his head.
"That's not what I mean."
He stepped closer.
"Your mother didn't just know this song."
He looked at Roman.
"She wrote it."
Naomi felt cold spread through her chest.
Roman's voice dropped.
"Because she wrote it for my mother."
No one moved.
Then the train lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Victor's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed immediately.
"Roman."
"What?"
"We have a problem."
Victor turned toward the window.
"There are three vehicles following the train."
Roman's eyes hardened.
"Whose?"
Victor listened.
Then he said the words that changed everything.
"Kincaid."
Naomi looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms.
Roman looked at her.
And suddenly, she understood something terrifying.
The babies hadn't been the only reason she had been pulled toward that cabin.
May you like
She had been brought there for a reason.
And someone had known she would be on this train.
