Every parent has imagined the unthinkable, if only for a fleeting moment.
In Karabi George‘s debut thriller, Not a Good Mother, that nightmare becomes reality when a new mother’s infant daughter disappears during a playdate, turning a frantic search into a relentless examination of guilt, suspicion, and the impossible expectations placed on mothers. George, whose short fiction has appeared in Litro Magazine and other publications, was shortlisted for the 2024 CWA Debut Dagger and is a recipient of the 2024 ThrillerFest scholarship.
Not a Good Mother will be published by Harper Perennial on April 6, 2027, and is available for pre-order now.
Debutiful is excited to reveal the cover of Not a Good Mother, designed by Molly von Borstel of Faceout Studio, and share an exclusive excerpt from this gripping debut.
Chapter 1
Friday, 19th July, 2024, Toronto
2:30 PM
They say you shouldn’t bring a child into an unhappy family. Although it’s too late for that now.
My stomach tightens as I wheel the stroller up the slanted sidewalk. From time to time Anaya tilts her chin up to look at the cloudless sky and averts her gaze again when we step into a particularly sunny patch.
When we stop at a pedestrian crossing, I double-check to make sure I’ve stretched out the stroller canopy completely over Anaya’s face. She catches my eye and gives me a toothless grin that fills my body with warmth.
However much I regret my marriage, I can never regret Anaya. She’s what keeps me going every day.
While we wait, a shadow falls over the stroller and I sense someone watching us. An old man has appeared beside us, his face half-hidden beneath his grey baseball cap. He’s standing a little too close to us and I instinctively edge away.
To my surprise, he peeks down into the stroller and coos in a high-pitched voice, “Hello there, Anaya.” When he looks up at me with his bright blue eyes, embarrassment immediately floods me.
It’s Mr. Fraser, one of our neighbours. I didn’t recognize him today with the cap completely concealing his flock of white hair.
“Mr. Fraser, are you out for a walk?” I say as the lights change.
We make our way across the road as he responds, “Heading to the grocery to —”
But he’s interrupted by Anaya, who lets out an irate yelp. I hurriedly lean around the stroller. Her pink lips quiver, her shoulders tense. Her cheeks are bright red and splotchy. Her furrowed brows indicate she’s on the verge of a crying fit.
Lately, her stranger anxiety has worsened. According to our pediatrician it picks up around eight months, the age she’s at now.
While we are familiar with Mr. Fraser and frequently see him during our daily walks, Anaya only wants to cling to me of late.
Mr. Fraser raises his hand in an awkward wave. “I’ll take the turn up here. Are you heading straight on to the park?” He coughs and covers his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt as he slowly veers away from us and to the corner.
I nod apologetically, having seen the flash of hurt in his eyes when Anaya didn’t smile back at him. “Yes, we are. Sometimes walking helps calm her down. See you around.”
Despite what Anaya’s pediatrician said, I know deep down that Varun and I are to blame for her behaviour. We don’t have much of a social circle here except for a handful of relatives. I’ve hardly made any friends since moving here. And we don’t know our neighbours well apart from superficial greetings when our paths cross. All Anaya sees are faces on the screen when we call family back in India.
That’s why I’m taking her to this play date today. So that Anaya can get out there and meet other children. But it’s not only for her. I need to meet other people too. Other mothers. Or else I’ll go crazy here.
I can already hear the yelps of children in the distance. We’re not too far from the park where we’re meeting Elizabeth and her son. I don’t know her last name, but she doesn’t know mine either. We’re taking a leap of faith and meeting each other. That’s how it is in the internet world.
When I first joined the Mamahood app, I didn’t think it would materialize into anything concrete. I lurked on the forums, getting into superficial conversations that quickly fizzled out. Even with Elizabeth, it was awkward initially. But somewhere along the way, things changed. She’d follow up on conversations, and share tips with me. Soon, I took a real interest in maintaining the friendship.
We’d been chatting for a couple of months when she suggested meeting up. When I mentioned that I live close to the Rosetta McClain park, she said it would be the perfect spot to catch up because she lived nearby too. I knew the app matched mothers based on the proximity of their locations, but I didn’t know we were practically in the same neighborhood.
I was overjoyed. Finally, I’d have someone to gossip and go on walks with. It was kind of pathetic how badly I needed a friend.
But I still have flutters of nervousness as I push myself toward the park. A small part of me wants to turn around and return home, curl up on the couch with my baby and forget about the world outside. It’s not like I’ve ever been particularly social, but the last year has nearly turned me into a hermit.
Nevertheless, I keep going and try to shake off the jitters that overwhelm me. Elizabeth and I have spent so much time talking about motherhood and babies. We’ve gotten along perfectly well online. There’s no reason to believe it’ll be any different in person. Besides, we’re both mothers. Even if we have nothing else in common, we have our babies to talk about.
I wish I could have told Varun about the play date, but it’s probably for the best I didn’t. He’s so over-protective lately. And while it used to be comforting earlier in our relationship, recently it’s grown stifling.
I know he thinks he’s only looking out for me, but it’s like he can’t trust me to take care of our own child. Sometimes I even wonder if I could create a different life for myself. But I’m being silly. We’ve been married for a couple of years now. We have a child together. I’m a stay-at-home mother in a country that still feels alien to me. Besides, it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.
I bring the stroller to a gentle stop right outside the black wrought-iron gates of the park and click its lock into place. Taking out my phone, I navigate through the cheery purple and white interface of the Mamahood app, glancing briefly at my feed that’s constantly inundated with frantic questions from new mothers.
The messages screen has my conversation thread with Elizabeth at the top. Her circular profile picture is way too zoomed out for me to figure out what she looks like.
Our conversation last night had ended with a message from her.
See you tomorrow. I’m so excited.
An impatient shriek pierces my thoughts. Anaya’s bobbing her head around, trying to catch a glimpse of me.
I quickly walk around the stroller and bend down to face her. “Anaya, we’ll be on our way soon.”
She gives me a lopsided grin as a gob of spit rolls down her chin. I grab her burp cloth from the undercarriage and wipe her mouth clean before shooting off a message to Elizabeth.
I’ve just arrived. Are you here?
Without waiting for her response, I unlock the stroller and wheel it into the park. My cell phone remains firmly squeezed between the handle and my sweaty palm.
The park is beautiful, full of tall willowy trees and winding paths. It’s such a hot day and I’m glad for all the shade.
Usually it isn’t too crowded here on a weekday afternoon, but today there’s a wedding photo shoot going on. The bride and groom pose against the backdrop of granite rock and manicured flower gardens. The bride is like an exquisite flower arrangement herself in her layered tulle dress, delicate pink roses adorning her low bun. She’s sparkling, ethereal almost, and completely eclipses her husband. Although I can’t help noticing how he protectively holds her. The arm gently placed around her waist. The way he gazes into her eyes. The way they fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.
This display of pure love and affection should fill me with joy. Instead all it does is stifle me. And I’m relieved when the phone pings to distract me from this happiness that will never graze my life.
I’m here too, I’m right by the gazebo.
I wheel the stroller toward the domed structure and a woman appears in my line of sight, seated on one of the stone benches. Her striking face instantly captivates me. Large eyes. High cheekbones. A perfectly straight nose. Flawless makeup. Shiny brown hair cascades down her shoulders like a horse’s mane, the blonde highlights catching bits of sunlight. Expensive sunglasses are perched on top of her head. Her manicured hands rest elegantly on a designer handbag in her lap.
I’m immediately conscious of my grey leggings and loose violet tunic billowing around my wide hips. My clothes are meant to hide the extra pounds that I didn’t lose after pregnancy, yet all they do is make me feel more shapeless than ever.
Although on second thought, that can’t be Elizabeth. There’s no stroller or baby with her.
I’m about to turn away when she waves at us. I look over my shoulder, but there’s no one behind me.
Confused, I raise my hand in a tentative wave as I slowly walk toward her. Is this the right woman?
But she dispels my doubt with her greeting. “Reema, so good to meet you finally. You look amazing.”
She must be one of those people who are generous with their compliments. Although it does work and I immediately find myself warming up to her. “Elizabeth, hello.”
A sparkly gold ring flashes on her finger as she bends over my stroller. “My goodness, this is the most adorable baby I’ve ever seen.”
People don’t always mean the compliments they shower on your baby, but it still fills my heart with pride. And Elizabeth genuinely does appear taken by Anaya. It’s evident in the intense way she gazes at her, a wide smile on her face.
It makes me feel a little possessive about her.
My mother often talks about nazar and how I should make sure to shield Anaya from the evil eye. But I don’t usually believe in all that superstitious talk and I’m surprised that my mind wanders in that direction at all. Especially when Elizabeth’s only being kind.
I wait for her to mention her child, but when she doesn’t I frantically search my brain for his name. “Where’s Mark, by the way?”
She straightens up, a darkness flickering across her face. Although it disappears so swiftly that for a moment I wonder if it were the shadows from the branches swaying overhead.
“Mark’s been a little under the weather today, so I thought I’d let him rest at home. His dad’s looking after him. He’s working from home, so it’s alright.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. We could’ve canceled and met another day.” I struggle to hide my dismay. I’d wanted Anaya to meet another baby.
She shakes her head, gesturing to me to sit beside her as she occupies her spot on the bench again. “No, of course not. I wanted to get out of the house for some fresh air. Mark’s been sleeping all day so he doesn’t need me. And I’d been looking forward to meeting you in person.”
Nodding, I plop down beside her. “Me too.” It’s not that big a deal that her son isn’t here. Play dates are more for the mothers anyway. Although I can’t help but feel a little jealous that her husband is so hands-on with their baby. I’m not sure I’ve ever left Anaya with Varun and gone out by myself.
I’m about to ask her if she was waiting for long when Anaya’s babbles distract me. Her eyes are droopy, her lower lip jutting out slightly. The heat must be making her sleepy. I extract her bottle from the side of the stroller and make her take a few sips of water.
Elizabeth tilts her head to one side as she observes her. “Babies get dehydrated easily. Mark’s the same.” The ruffled neckline of her beige blouse flutters in the breeze. She’s paired it with stonewashed black jeans.
From a distance she could easily pass as a university student. But up close, the faint lines on her face are evident. Her carefully applied makeup can’t hide the dark circles around her eyes.
My heart goes out to her. She must be as tired as I am despite how put-together she appears. It’s evident in the mechanical way she throws her arms around when she talks. The overexcited shine in her eyes. The shrill pitch of her voice. Like a puppet whose limbs are forcefully being moved about to put on a show.
“Have you lived in Toronto all your life?”
She shakes her head. “No, I grew up in Milton, one of the suburbs around here. I moved to Toronto for university and work…” She rolls her eyes. “And you know how it is, you end up staying in one place forever.”
This surprises me a bit—I’d assumed that most of the mothers on the app were like me. Uprooted from their real homes. Forced to start their lives all over again in a new place with no support from friends or family.
She continues like she’s read my mind, “We recently moved into this neighborhood. Most of our friends live downtown. I’m also one of the first mothers in our group and ever since the baby…I’ve felt a bit disconnected from my old friends.” She smiles at me widely, revealing her perfect white teeth. “It’s so good that we finally managed to meet. So important to find a village for our children.”
It’s like she’s speaking from my own heart. I beam at her. “That’s true. Where exactly do you live? What’s the intersection?”
Elizabeth waves her hand in the air. “Not too far from here. Maybe next time you and Anaya can come over to our place.”
Her words fill me with warmth. Elizabeth’s so easy to talk to. As usual I’d been worrying about nothing. I break into a smile. “That would be great.”
Adjusting the sunglasses at the top of her head she shakes out her thick hair. “How long have you lived in Toronto?”
“Close to two years. My husband’s been in Canada longer though. We met during one of his trips to India. I moved here with him after we got married, and got pregnant soon after. Everything’s been a whirlwind since.” I cast a tender glance toward Anaya and find she’s fast asleep, her tiny head slumped on her left shoulder. She looks so vulnerable when she’s sleeping, so utterly beautiful and helpless.
A toddler, chasing a butterfly, stops right in front of us and gives us a large toothy grin.
“Adam, wait for Mommy.”
A short stocky woman in a floral dress makes her way to him, another small child nestled in her arms. She shoots us a hasty smile before grabbing onto the toddler’s hand and hurrying along.
“One child literally takes your life over.” I continue gazing after the woman as the toddler slides out of her grip again and she struggles to catch up with him. “Having more than one must be so hard.”
Elizabeth stiffens and I instantly regret what I said. I don’t want to come across as a complaining mother. I quickly shake my head. “It’s obviously wonderful having kids, I just meant it can get overwhelming at times.”
She places her hand on my arm. “I understand. And Reema, you’re such a great mother to Anaya. You should never feel guilty for acknowledging motherhood can be hard.”
It’s what I’ve always wanted to hear. But no one in my own life has ever told me this, including my husband. My shoulders relax. I knew Elizabeth would understand. She’s a mother herself.
We gradually ease into a conversation about infant tantrums, baby food, milestones and sleep habits when Elizabeth reaches out and touches my arm gently. “Reema, I hate to interrupt but I really need to use the bathroom.” She gives me a sheepish grin. “I swear my bladder still hasn’t returned to normal, although it’s been like…what? Almost a year since I gave birth.” As she stands up, she gestures toward her handbag. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my things? I’ll be right back.”
I wave her away. “Of course not, take your time.”
Once Elizabeth walks off, I glance at my cell phone and see it’s past four o’clock. If Varun returns early from work, he’ll wonder where we are.
I’m about to pack up when Elizabeth appears behind me. I turn to her quickly and say, “It was great catching up, but I should be on my way. Anaya will wake up and fuss. Let’s plan something again soon. I’d love to meet Mark.”
Elizabeth pulls down her sunglasses. “For sure, I’ll let you know what works for me. Next weekend should be good.” She jerks her head toward the direction she just came from. “Did you want to use the bathroom too before leaving?”
I place my palms on the handle of Anaya’s stroller. “Yeah, maybe I’ll just stop on the way out.”
Her eyebrows furrow in concern. “With all your things? The stalls are quite cramped. It’ll be difficult to wheel the stroller in. I’m happy to watch Anaya while you go.”
I hesitate for a moment. I’m so used to taking Anaya with me everywhere. But I’m sure Elizabeth will be able to manage her just fine even if she wakes up. And I don’t want to ruin our friendship by being paranoid. Besides, she’s right. It’s such a pain to maneuver the stroller into the stall.
I take in Anaya’s sleeping face one last time before edging away. “Thanks so much.”
At the entrance to the bathroom, I briefly glance back at the bench again. Elizabeth has one hand on the stroller like I did before. Reassured, I enter the stall.
As I wash my hands, I wince at my makeup free face and wavy hair that’s frizzed at the ends. I recently cut my hair short in an attempt to disguise the postpartum hair loss. But it hasn’t helped at all and now I look like a mushroom. My eyes are dull and vacant, the result of countless sleepless nights. People used to compliment my large bright eyes but now it looks like the fire in them has been extinguished.
I rub the permanent crease that’s formed between my brows. Varun constantly says I’m worrying too much about Anaya. But what does he know? He hardly spends time with her. He doesn’t know anything about what babies her age get up to, like putting everything in their mouths. He doesn’t understand how I always need to keep a lookout. How I feel untethered when I’m not with her for a second. It’s the way I’m feeling now, though I know she’s perfectly fine.
I don’t bother to dry my hands below the dryer, wiping them hurriedly on my tunic as I rush out of the bathroom.
As I step out, I make my way down the same path that I’d taken earlier. But when I look into the distance the bench is empty. My throat closes up.
I catch a glimpse of a woman with a stroller on another path and exhale in relief. But when I get closer, it’s not Elizabeth at all. It’s the woman we’d seen earlier. She’s placing her baby in the stroller while the toddler prances around it.
My stomach starts to churn.
I must’ve taken the wrong path after exiting the bathroom. I dart the other way. But no, this is the right way. The fountain’s up ahead as well. I run toward the empty bench, looking around everywhere. Maybe Anaya woke up and started crying. And Elizabeth’s pushing her around the park to calm her down.
Still, the heat rises in my head. Dread floods my veins. I try to ignore the pounding of my heart. This happens to me nearly every day. I panic about something or the other and it turns out to be alright. That’s how life is with a baby.
But this is different. Like being in a nightmare you always wake up from until one day you can’t.
As I near the bench, I find my diaper bag lying on its side in the exact same spot I’d left it. I pick it up with trembling hands. Calm down. Calm down. They’re in this park somewhere. They have to be.
I take out my phone to call Elizabeth and realize we never exchanged numbers, so I hurriedly navigate to the Mamahood app.
Hey, I’m back. Where are you?
I don’t wait for an answer. I swivel my head back and forth to catch a glimpse of them.
I approach a couple seated on a picnic blanket a few feet away from the bench. “Hi there, did you see a woman and a baby? They were right here.” My voice is choked, my words all garbled.
The man looks up at me, while the woman shakes her head and says, “No sorry, we just got here.”
“Ok thanks,” I call over my shoulder as I run along the path that circles the entire park. I constantly glance at my phone but there are no messages from Elizabeth. No pings. No notifications. It’s not like her to not respond promptly.
The sun’s directly in my eyes now. My head spins and sweat drips down the back of my neck. I can’t understand. They have to be here somewhere. I left them alone for less than five minutes.
I shout, “Elizabeth? Anaya? Elizabeth?”
Everyone stares at me. I don’t care.
I sporadically approach groups of people. “Sorry to bother you, but did you see a woman with a stroller? There’s a small baby with this woman. My baby. I’m looking for my baby. Did you see a small baby with a woman?” My words are getting twisted now.
I’ve circled the entire park twice when I finally stop. The pounding in my head is so loud that my temples throb. Maybe Anaya woke up. But if she had, Elizabeth could have walked toward the toilet and waited for me. She knew where I was.
It doesn’t make sense for her to take Anaya anywhere without letting me know.
I run toward the park exit, my brain a complete muddle. I check the sidewalks on either side of me, but I can’t see them anywhere. I must look crazed because people are giving me strange looks and stepping out of their way to avoid me.
I wrap my arms around myself. I’m shivering despite the heat. All the running around has made me dizzy. I can’t make excuses for Elizabeth anymore. Can’t rationalize her actions. This is all wrong.
I know what the obvious conclusion is, but I haven’t let myself believe it. I wanted to trust her. I thought she was my friend.
But now I can’t help it. She’s taken my baby. And that must’ve been her intention all along.
My head swims but I force myself to remain upright. I push past the terror and slowly my mind clears. With a renewed burst of energy, I look at my phone again. But this time, instead of the Mamahood app I navigate to another one.
I know how to find my baby.