Right after delivery, my husband smirked at the newborn: “We need a DNA test to be sure it’s mine.” I held the baby tightly, tears in my eyes, and whispered, “Fine, let’s do it.” Days later, the doctor stared at the lab results with a pale face and said, “Ma’am, call the police right now.”

bassinet, her back to me, her hands working quickly in the shadows. I had assumed she was checking his temperature. I had drifted back to sleep.

“She took him,” I breathed, my eyes snapping open. “She took him right in front of me while I slept.”

Alvarez was already typing furiously on his smartphone. “Patrol units are dispatching to her registered home continue reading …