Maya sat on the edge of her hospital bed, staring at her phone in Detective Chen’s hand.
“We need to see everything,” Chen said gently. “Text messages, social media, photos. Anything that might help us understand what happened.”
“I already told you, I don’t have anything.” Maya’s voice was hoarse from crying. She’d been crying for almost twelve hours straight. Since she woke up Saturday morning to an empty bassinet and a nurse’s horrified face.
“Let’s just look together, okay?” Chen sat down beside her. “Start with your photos. Did you take any pictures of Andrea after she was born?”
Maya’s hands were shaking as she took the phone back. She opened her photo gallery with trembling fingers.
The last photo was from Friday afternoon. Her own face, puffy and tired, taken in the bathroom mi
