Christy Barritt

The Cradle Conspiracy


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a God who can move mountains in our lives.

      When the journey feels tough and like the obstacles will never cease, remember there’s Someone to help you every step of the way.

      Blessings,

       Christy Barritt

      I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

      —Psalm 121:1–2

      This book is dedicated to those who are facing mountains they feel like they’ll never conquer.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

      Note to Readers

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       ONE

       TWO

       THREE

       FOUR

       FIVE

       SIX

       SEVEN

       EIGHT

       NINE

       TEN

       ELEVEN

       TWELVE

       THIRTEEN

       FOURTEEN

       FIFTEEN

       SIXTEEN

       SEVENTEEN

       EIGHTEEN

       NINETEEN

       TWENTY

       TWENTY-ONE

       TWENTY-TWO

       TWENTY-THREE

       TWENTY-FOUR

       TWENTY-FIVE

       TWENTY-SIX

       TWENTY-SEVEN

       TWENTY-EIGHT

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       ONE

      Sienna Thompson lay in bed, trying to get to sleep.

      But she couldn’t rest. She hadn’t been able to get any shut-eye for the past two days.

      How could she sleep knowing that something terrible might have happened to her friend Anita? Little two-year-old Colby’s life would never be the same if something happened to his mama.

      So why couldn’t Sienna get in touch with the woman?

      Anita was supposed to pick up Colby on Monday. Today was Wednesday, and Sienna had heard nothing from the boy’s mom. An ominous feeling churned in her gut, and she tried to push away the worst-case scenarios that flooded her mind.

      A car accident? Medical emergency? Had she been the victim of some kind of crime?

      Maybe the answer was simpler. Maybe Anita was just irresponsible. Maybe she’d lost track of time. Or maybe it was just as simple as Sienna misunderstanding her.

      As Sienna turned over in bed, a sound at the other side of the house caught her ear.

      What was that noise? She hoped Colby hadn’t somehow gotten out of his crib.

      Sienna threw her legs out of bed and tugged a sweatshirt on over her T-shirt and yoga pants. With quick—but quiet—steps, she hurried into the hallway and paused, waiting to listen.

      There was the noise again. It almost sounded like a scratch—and a grating one, at that.

      Concern began to rise in her.

      She rushed across