Libby Killing Baby Rainbow as a Warning, If Rose Does Not Give Her Baby Brady Back
The rain had not stopped since dawn, thin and cold, tracing silver lines down the windows of the old farmhouse. Inside, Rose sat in the rocking chair, clutching baby Brady to her chest, her heart pounding in rhythm with the ticking clock on the wall. She had not slept. She could not. The message Libby sent that morning still echoed in her mind like a scream in an empty hall.
“If you don’t give Brady back, Rainbow pays.”
Rainbow. The tiny foal with the pale golden mane and the white streak down her nose. The creature Rose had raised from birth, bottle-feeding her through bitter nights when her mother had died. Rainbow was gentle, trusting, and followed Rose everywhere like a loyal shadow.
Libby knew that.
Libby had once been Rose’s closest friend. But when Brady was born, everything changed. Libby believed the baby should have been hers. She claimed promises were made, debts were owed, futures were stolen. Her words had grown darker each week, more desperate, more unhinged.
By afternoon, another message arrived — this time, a photo. Rainbow tied to the old oak tree at the edge of Libby’s property. The sky behind her was bruised purple, heavy with another coming storm.
Rose’s breath caught. Brady stirred softly in her arms.
Libby wasn’t just making threats anymore. She was drawing a line.
Rose felt terror, yes — but beneath it, something stronger began to rise. A fierce, unyielding resolve. Brady was her son. Rainbow was her responsibility. She would not sacrifice one to save the other. She would not surrender to fear.
As thunder cracked across the sky, Rose stood up from the rocking chair. She wrapped Brady securely against her chest and reached for her coat. Her hands trembled, but her eyes were steady.
If Libby thought she could break her with threats, she was wrong.
Tonight, the storm would decide everything.