Read Peril for Free Online Page A

to dream up something new and creative. During her maternity leave, managing Teagan and the dialysis hadn’t been too bad. She fit in extra sleep when the baby napped.
    After a few stories from his day, Tyler would pick up Teagan and brush his whiskers against her cheek until her dark blue eyes opened and greeted his matching pair. He’d kiss her cheek, walk her upstairs, and get her settled to bed. By the time he was done, Morgan would have something prepared for him to eat. It never bothered Morgan that Tyler roused Teagan from her sleep; she was always quick to go back down.
    If I’d known those quiet evenings with Teagan were numbered, I never would’ve allowed my baby to go back to sleep.
    Morgan went back to work. Twelve-hour shifts weren’t optimal on dialysis, but working in the pediatric ICU didn’t offer any alternative and she dreaded thinking about leaving the type of nursing she loved. Her unit had borne with her even though she needed extra breaks for dialysis exchanges. Then, after a long day, she’d come home to have to set up her treatment and manage Teagan. Tyler started coming home later and later, and she gave up keeping Teagan downstairs awaiting his arrival.
    After Teagan’s death, Morgan had opted for a shunt to be placed in her arm to facilitate the hemodialysis treatment she currently endured three times a week. And she’d gone on the transplant list.
    That had been the beginning of the distance between them. It was as if they were on opposite sides of a small, barely trickling creek. But every action—going to bed without talking, leaving in the morning without a word, and not talking on the phone through the day—was like a cup of water into the stream that eventually grew to the raging, class-five rapids that was the current state of their marriage. Tumultuous.
    Churning.
    She could so easily be drawn under the foaming water for a cold, suffocating death.
    That evening had started like any other for Morgan.
    Snow was falling softly and the grass had a nice layer, though it was melting quickly on the streets. She’d picked Teagan up from Victoria’s house. The first inkling Morgan should’ve had that something was amiss was when she arrived late from work and her daughter was packaged up and ready to go. Normally she found Victoria with the baby cuddling in the living room. Through the sidelight windows, Morgan could see Teagan was parked by the front door and buckled into her infant carrier. In one swift movement, Victoria had swung open the door, picked up the carrier with her free hand, and shoved it into Morgan’s arms, not even allowing her to come inside. It was a side of her friend that she’d never seen. Impatience. Anxiety. Victoria said Teagan had been fussy all day and she didn’t know if she could continue to care for her.
    Packaged infant.
    Crying all day.
    Wanting out.
    How many times had she heard the exact same story at work? There should have been something that tugged at Morgan’s nursing instinct. She should have known then, as she carried her baby to the car, that a cascade of events was brewing inside her daughter’s body. Trauma that her own dear friend set into motion.
    The drive home was short. Teagan hadn’t stirred. It was already late in the evening, so Morgan decided to leave the baby buckled in the infant carrier while she had her dialysis fluid drained and clean solution infused back into her abdomen. Thirty minutes tops .
    She’d pushed down the carry handle and taken a quick peek before she went upstairs. Teagan seemed to still be sleeping. After reviewing the events in her mind, Morgan now remembered how her skin looked pale.
    Morgan had just finished the treatment when she heard Tyler coming through the heavy garage door that jolted the whole house when it closed. At first, her heart hammered at the sound of the break in the peaceful quiet of the house, but it was his outright scream