Constance took the baby in her arms. It was warm. She cooed softly at it. The baby reminded her so much of little Tate, small, warm and with little short blond hair. She went to the kitchen and cleaned it up. She let herself cry a little, missing her dead children. She promised silently to herself that she would not make the same mistake with her grandson, she wouldn’t allow it. Doctor Harmon would not leave the house because she would not let him. Anyways, Vivien was dead, that would keep him here. And little Violet, so in love with Tate wouldn’t go without a fight. She went up to the nursery and set it in the crib. No one was in sight, she pulled a little chair close and sat down, singing to the baby softly. Chad showed up, he was leaning on the doorway, his eyes glinting.
