Had they come in through the window? Veronica was certain that she’d locked it last night, but this morning it was open, just a crack. Had she forgotten to lock it? Had a memory lapse allowed them in?
Or maybe they had already been in the closet. Veronica’s eldest, Jase, had warned her about that. Because he was seven, though, she had dismissed his anxieties as childhood fears.
Perhaps they lived in the shadows under the bed. Could that be an opening to their realm? She was blaming herself for the window, but there was nothing to be done against a portal to a shadow realm hidden in the shadows under the bed.
Regardless of the how, and regardless of the why, Veronica could tell that the creature lying in the Jake’s crib was not Jake. It was, to be clear, an excellent simulacrum. They had gotten so many of the key details correct: The hair, the softness of the skin, the padding of fat in all the proper places.
But there was something in the eyes, a distance, almost a deadness. Jake had loved to meet her eye contact, but this… pseudo Jake… looked everywhere but at her. Like it knew that her seeing its soul would give it away.
And there was something in the noises it made, or rather, didn’t make anymore. The playful kicking was still there, the air of joy was still there. Again, an excellent simulacrum, but oddly quiet.
So there was still just something a little bit off, enough for Veronica to know that Jake had been taken, and this had been left in his place.