Imogen rubbed her temples. “Go ahead. What is it?”

The maid confessed, “Ms. Russell, when we changed Mr. Caleb’s clothes, we noticed a fresh scratch on his skin. It was caused by a fingernail and appears very recent.”

“What?” Imogen thought she’d misheard. “How could you be so careless?”

“Ms. Russell, it wasn’t us! We all keep our nails trimmed short for Mr. Caleb. We couldn’t have scratched him!” the maid protested.

“So, you’re saying…” Imogen froze, her mind racing. Besides herself, the maids, and the nanny, only Archie and Johanna had been near Caleb.

“Mr. Rosario didn’t hold the baby. Only Ms. Johanna lingered by the cradle,” the maid added cautiously.

As Imogen’s expression darkened, the maid braced herself. “Perhaps Ms. Johanna accidentally scratched Mr. Caleb while playing with him. Her nails might have been too long—”

“That’s enough!” Imogen’s voice cut through the room. The maid quickly soothed the baby, and he drifted back to sleep.

The nanny, standing nearby, was tense. She understood why the maid had reported this privately; Imogen wouldn’t believe them otherwise. After all, one was her husband, and the other her sister-in-law. They were too close for Imogen to readily doubt them.

The maid remained silent.

After a long pause, Imogen closed her eyes. No one could tell if she believed the maid. She sighed. “From now on, keep a closer watch. Someone must stay with Mr. Caleb at all times.”

“Yes,” the maid replied.

Imogen slumped onto the bed. A chill ran down her spine. Then, she remembered something and began rummaging through drawers. The maid hesitated. “Ms. Russell, what are you looking for? Do you need help?”

Imogen didn’t answer. She searched, finally finding a small porcelain bottle in the third drawer. Inside were two pills. These were the pills Felicia had sent; she’d said they would restore Imogen’s eyesight within two hours.

Imogen clenched the bottle, then opened it and swallowed the pills. The wait was agonizing; two hours felt like an eternity.

Imogen leaned against the headboard and drifted off to sleep. When she awoke, she heard her baby crying. She opened her eyes and froze. Her cozy room was before her, a cradle gently rocking beside the bed. Inside lay Caleb, happily babbling after being fed.

Imogen covered her mouth, overwhelmed. Was this a dream? She could see! She could actually see! She had been blind for eighteen years, yearning for the day she could see her child.

Tears streamed down her face. The maid asked anxiously, “Ms. Russell, what’s wrong?”