Cradled by the Night Read Online Free Page A

mostly.” Amelia bit her lip.
    How much should I say? If I tell her what I saw, she's going to think I really am nuts—not just a mild case of postpartum depression.
    “Mostly?” The doctor smiled and waited.
    “We just have a lot of things to spruce up. That's all.” Amelia gave her what she hoped was a bright smile.
    That was close.
    “You'll get it all done. One project at a time. You take care, now. I want to see you back here in a month for a check up. Call me if you need anything, and I mean anything. Enjoy your little one. You are free to leave when you're ready.” Dr. Marple handed her the prescription and closed the door behind her.
    Maybe these little pills will get rid of the crying baby and the scary woman.
    Amelia sighed and slung her purse over her shoulder. The sitter would be waiting, and she wanted to get another look at the family graveyard before she left for the day.
    * * * *
    She called the babysitter on the way and told her she needed to do some things in the backyard before she came in the house. Sally had agreed to stay with the baby for another hour at most.
    Amelia parked in front of the house and strolled toward the woods behind the house. The sun sizzled overhead—a hot day even for July this far north. She didn't know what she was looking for—exactly, only that she meant to find out what was happening in her home.
    If it's not all just in my head.
    The alternative of postpartum psychosis coming on was too frightening to contemplate. She had chosen to keep her mouth shut at the doctor's office, knowing what admitting to hearing noises and seeing visions would bring. Amelia just knew what she was experiencing was real. It wasn't depression. Her worries about what was going on led to the mood and exhaustion.
    Assuming I can trust my own mind...
    The woods parted in the clearing. The gate to the graveyard was shut. Amelia knew she had left it open in her haste to get back to the house the last time she was here.
    How did that happen?
    She wondered if Bard had been back out here and hadn't told her. He had been distant the past few days—busy with work, he said.
    Amelia meandered to the servants' side of the graveyard. The tumble down stones were in a poor state. Some were broken entirely. She immediately focused on a small stone jutting from the ground.
    A baby.
    Heart hammering, she bent down to see if there was any writing on it. It was off to itself near the fence.
    That's strange.
    The crude lettering was legible:
    Infant
    No birth or death date was inscribed.
    “How strange,” Amelia whispered as the breeze stirred the trees. The leaves murmured their secrets amongst themselves.
    She knelt for a moment longer, running her fingers over the top of the headstone, but there was nothing more to learn from it. Amelia walked over to the grouping of other servants' graves. She couldn't read their inscriptions. They appeared to either have none or to have been poorly inscribed by hand in the past.
    “Sad. I guess I'll never know much about them.” But an idea grew in her mind.
    The library might have some old newspaper articles and information about this house and about who lived here, their lives and histories.
    She decided to go the next day. It would require the sitter again, but she knew Bard didn't mind, and she needed the breaks during the week. The doctor had practically ordered her to get out for her moms group at a minimum once per week.
    Amelia hurried in, ready to see Lottie, her mind on the mysteries of Stormcliffe's previous residents.
    * * * *
    “I'll be getting in late tonight. Don't hold dinner. I'll warm it up,” Bard said. His voice was tight.
    Amelia could tell he had already left the conversation. She had called him two minutes earlier—at 6 pm when there was no sign of him. He was often late coming in, but he either texted to let her know a few hours beforehand or told her he would pick up takeout on the way home.
    “Oh, okay. Well, I miss you.” Her eyes filled