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The Freezer Baby Case Reborn to Expose My Cheating Husband
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I brought my five-month-old son home to visit my parents—and the neighbor's kid snatched him the moment I looked away. Threw him into the old freezer in our family's convenience store. I searched al...
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第1章
I brought my five-month-old son home to visit my parents—and the neighbor's kid snatched him the moment I looked away.
Threw him into the old freezer in our family's convenience store.
I searched all night like a woman possessed. Then something made me check the freezer.
When I opened it and saw my baby's frozen body, I shattered.
I rushed him to the hospital, screaming for help. The doctor pronounced him dead on arrival.
The police reviewed the security footage. The one who'd thrown my son into that freezer was the neighbor's ten-year-old child.
Too young for criminal charges.
They offered me a few hundred thousand dollars and expected me to move on.
I couldn't. I grabbed a knife, ready to avenge my son with my own hands.
A Volvo hit me before I got halfway there. Ran me over. Reversed. Did it again.
Only left when they were sure I'd stopped breathing.
When I opened my eyes, I was back. That same afternoon I'd first arrived at my parents' place.
1.
For a moment, I couldn't process it.
I looked down—my arms were empty. My son wasn't there.
I bolted into the bedroom.
There he was. Lying in his crib, reaching up for me with tiny fingers.
My heart started beating again.
I scooped Craig Floyd up and rushed straight to my sister's house, begging Serena Fox to watch him for a while.
Then I went back to my parents' place. Acted like nothing had happened.
Because I needed to know—what was that little demon next door after?
I stayed at Serena's for hours, talking about nothing, killing time.
On my way back, the neighbor's kid was waiting by the entrance. Smiling at me.
The same smile from before. It made my skin crawl.
He seemed to know me. Called me "Auntie Deidre Fox."
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral.
Probably heard my parents mention me, I told myself.
I headed for the stairs. He followed.
In the pitch-black stairwell, I could hear his footsteps—lighter than mine, but perfectly in sync.
I climbed one floor. He climbed one floor.
Only when I reached my parents' door and fumbled for the handle did he finally skip back downstairs, humming to himself.
My father yanked the door open. "Where have you been all afternoon? Did you take the baby somewhere?"
I'd left with Craig without telling them.
I opened my mouth to explain—
A scream ripped through the building from below.
My mother's voice.
I was down the stairs before I knew I was moving, bursting into the convenience store.
"Mom! What happened? What's wrong?"
She was trembling, pointing at the freezer.
I walked over. Lifted the lid.
A frozen infant stared back at me.
I went cold.
Craig was safe at Serena's. I'd made sure of it.
So who was this?
The baby looked like it had been placed there that afternoon—already stiff, skin mottled purple, frost clinging to its lashes. The features were too distorted to make out clearly.
My mother had never seen anything like this. Her face went chalk-white, and she swayed like she might collapse.
"Is it real?" she kept asking. "Is that real?"
I didn't know how to answer.
I guided my father to her side, told him to stay with her, keep her calm.
Then I pulled out my phone and dialed 110.
Within minutes, neighbors packed the doorway—drawn by my mother's scream, hungry for spectacle.
I stared at the tiny frozen face, trying to think.
Who is this baby?
The features... they almost looked like Craig's.
But I'd never seen this child before in my life.
One thing I knew for certain: the neighbor's kid had put this body here.
And suddenly I understood why he'd smiled at me.
That smug, triumphant grin.
In my previous life, if I hadn't sent Craig to Serena's in time—
第2章
The baby in that freezer could be Craig. Again.
Terror crawled up my spine. Every hair on my body stood on end.
Then I spotted him—lurking in the crowd, wearing a mask of innocent curiosity. The neighbor's kid.
I moved before I could think, crossing the distance in three strides and seizing his wrist.
"Tell me. Was it you?"
His name was Harold Lambert. A textbook case of a child born wrong—cruel streak a mile wide, zero conscience to speak of.
He yanked free of my grip, his face crumpling into wounded confusion.
"Ma'am, what did I do? Why are you grabbing me?"
Only then did I register the stares. Every single person in the crowd was watching me like I'd lost my mind.
I didn't care.
"You know exactly what you did," I spat. "The police are on their way. I suggest you turn yourself in while you still can."
That was a human life. A baby—frozen to death in a commercial ice box.
Even if it wasn't my Craig, I couldn't pretend this hadn't happened.
Harold's mother appeared, shoving through the onlookers. The moment she saw me gripping her son, she charged over and shoved me backward.
"What the hell do you think you're doing to my boy, you crazy bitch?"
"He killed someone," I said flatly. "What do you think I'm doing?"
Something flickered in Margery Matthews' eyes. Panic, quickly smothered.
She denied it immediately—called me delusional, accused me of making up stories.
I grabbed her arm and hauled her toward the freezer.
"Open your eyes and look."
Margery glanced at the tiny blue-tinged body. Just once. Then she looked away.
"What proof do you have that my son did this?" she demanded. "Stop spouting nonsense."
I held her gaze, my expression carved from stone.
"The store has security cameras. How do you think I know?"
A bluff. There were no cameras—the system had been broken for months.
But Margery seemed to know my shop better than I did. She called my bluff without flinching.
"Don't try to fool me. I know there aren't any."
She knew. She knew there was no evidence.
Before I could respond, the door crashed open.
Fergus Floyd stormed in, his face ashen, his movements frantic. He grabbed my shoulders hard enough to bruise.
"Where is he? Where's our son?"
His voice cracked. "I told you not to take him on a trip alone. I told you, and you didn't listen!"
I stared at him, utterly lost.
His reaction mirrored my previous life perfectly—the accusations, the blame. But the baby in that freezer wasn't Craig. I knew that for certain.
So why was Fergus already convinced it was?
I didn't correct him. Instead, I played along.
"Aren't you supposed to be on a business trip?"
"I finished early. Is it a crime to worry about you handling things alone?" His voice rose to a raw scream. "And I was right to worry—you got my son killed!"
Tears streamed down his contorted face as he whirled on my parents.
"My son is dead, and it's YOUR fault too! You let this happen!"
My parents went white. It had never occurred to them that the frozen infant might be Craig.
When Fergus's words sank in, my mother collapsed against my father, sobbing so violently I thought she'd pass out. My father stood frozen, unable to process any of it.
"Give me back my son!" Fergus howled at them.
Then he turned on me, eyes bloodshot, voice serrated with rage.
"You're the one who killed him. If you hadn't dragged Craig back to your parents' house, would this have happened?!"
Strangely, his hysteria steadied me.
I watched him—really watched. The theatrical despair. The perfectly timed tears. Every gesture calculated for maximum impact.
Something was wrong. My gut screamed it.
Who was the baby in that freezer?
Craig was safe with my sister. So where had Harold gotten an infant to put in there?
I tilted my head, studying my husband with new eyes.
"You haven't even looked at the body," I said quietly. "How do you already know it's our son?"
第3章
"Do I need to see it? I heard everything just now!"
"Heard from who?"
When he saw I was determined to get to the bottom of this, his patience snapped.
He turned it around on me. "Can you stop deflecting?"
"You're the one who brought Craig here. Now something's happened, and you have the nerve to point fingers at me?"
I shook my head, keeping my composure. "I'm not pointing fingers. Just curious."
The words barely left my mouth before my husband's palm cracked across my face.
"You heartless, selfish woman—all you care about is yourself!"
"No, your whole family's the same. You'll all rot for this!"
Fergus had already decided. In his mind, my family's negligence had killed our son.
The time, the place, the words—everything unfolded exactly as it had in my previous life.
Everything except one detail: the frozen infant wasn't Craig.
His every move struck me as wrong. Calculated.
Outside, neighbors crowded against the door, blocked from entering, demanding to know what had happened.
I ignored them and told Fergus I'd called the police.
First, we find the killer. Then we talk.
He said I was deflecting out of guilt.
That the killer was obviously me. What was there to argue about?
My parents loved Craig more than I did, if that was even possible.
They were always asking me to bring him over, desperate for every moment with their grandson.
When they learned he was gone, their grief rivaled mine.
But all my father could do was try to comfort Fergus. "Fergus, please—blame us. This has nothing to do with Deidre."
"If you need someone to be angry at, let it be us. We're the ones who failed you."
Fergus's response wasn't fury. It was a slow, cold smile as he looked at them.
His eyes had gone utterly dark.
"If you hadn't kept pressuring her to bring Craig here, would any of this have happened?"
"This is your fault. Every single one of you."
I couldn't take another second. "Are you done? If you're done, we wait for the police."
"And then what?" His voice cracked. "Will the police bring my Craig back?"
"He was only five months old! Give me back my son!"
Something about his performance was off. Deeply off.
From the day I gave birth to Craig until I brought him here today, Fergus had barely interacted with him. He'd held him maybe twice.
So why this theatric grief now? For a child he'd never seemed to want?
My father sighed heavily, guilt written across his face.
I wanted so badly to tell them: Craig isn't dead.
I sent him to my sister's place. He's probably napping right now, safe and warm.
But Fergus's behavior screamed that something was wrong. I needed to understand what.
When I looked back at Harold, I found him watching me.
That smile. Half-formed. Knowing.
Like a demon studying its prey.
A chill crawled down my spine.
I forced myself to stay calm.
"I think," I said, my voice steady, "you should step forward and admit what you did."
Harold immediately ducked behind his mother, his face a mask of fear.
But I knew it was an act.
In my previous life, their family had paid compensation. That was it. Not a single apology.
And this little monster? He'd faced no consequences whatsoever.
Life went on as usual. School. Playtime. As if nothing had happened.
The worst part? He'd claimed he put Craig in the freezer because he was copying something from TV.
I didn't care if that was true or not.
All I knew was that my Craig had died—and his real killer had walked free.
Margery pulled her son behind her, glaring at me with undisguised hostility.
She looked ready to lunge.
And Fergus? He took their side.
"Stop running from responsibility," he said.
I glanced toward the entrance and spotted Blake Chavez hobbling over with his cane.
A body cam hung from a lanyard around his neck—his family had bought it for him after he'd started getting forgetful. It tracked his location in real time and recorded everything around him.
I walked over. "Mr. Chavez, would you mind if I borrowed that for a moment?"
We were neighbors. Old Mr. Chavez didn't hesitate.
I carried the device back into the store. Fergus and Margery both stiffened, their brows creasing in unison.
It didn't take long. I scrubbed through the footage until I found it—Harold Lambert, walking into the convenience store with a baby in his arms.