Swapped at Birth

It was the middle of the night, and I was scrolling through social media.

Suddenly, I came across a post from Claudia Taylor, the widow who lived next door. She had posted at 10 PM, with the caption:

[A family of three.]

The picture showed three hands stacked together—two adults' hands and one small child's hand.

I frowned in confusion.

Hadn’t Claudia's husband passed away long ago?

For the past three years, she'd been living across the street with just her little boy.

Still, I gave the post a like.

Barely two minutes later, the post disappeared. Claudia had deleted it.

The next morning, after preparing breakfast for my family, I hurried to take Mia Hart, my daughter, to preschool.

As soon as I stepped out the door, I ran into Claudia and her son, Finn Taylor.

“Claudia, taking Finn to school, too?” I greeted her warmly.

She looked startled, as if she hadn’t expected to see me, but quickly forced a smile. "Yeah. And you're taking Mia, I see?"

Her gaze lingered on Mia.

I glanced down at her son, Finn. For some reason, whenever I saw the boy, I felt an odd sense of affection toward him.

It was weird that he was always dressed in messy, worn-out clothes, especially since Claudia herself always looked pristine.

What kind of mother would spend more time on her appearance than her child’s well-being?

I held my tongue, though.

“If only Finn and Mia went to the same preschool. They could keep each other company,” I said gently, looking down at Finn.

Finn noticed me watching him and offered a shy smile. His face was so thin, yet so sweet and polite. It made me feel a wave of pity.

Even though he was the same age as Mia, he seemed so much smaller.

“I don’t want him at my school! He doesn’t deserve to go there!” Mia whined loudly.

Shocked, I turned to look at her. She pouted and even rolled her eyes at Finn.

“What do you mean, Mia? That’s not how we treat other kids. You need to be kind to everyone!”

I said sternly, as I turned her to face me. My serious tone must have startled her, because her eyes filled with tears.

She glanced over at Claudia, whose face shifted with a hint of worry.

I tugged Mia to Finn. “Apologize to Finn right now!”

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine,” Claudia said quickly, stepping in. “Mia’s right. Finn doesn’t belong in a fancy preschool like hers.”

Her words made me frown. What kind of mother would say something like that about her own child?

Finn, standing beside her, seemed unfazed. It was like he was used to hearing such things. However, the sadness in his eyes was unmistakable.

I wasn’t about to let it slide. “Mia, did you hear me? Say sorry to Finn!”

Instead of apologizing, Mia wrenched her hand out of mine and bolted down the street. I tried to grab her, but she was too quick.

“I’m sorry, Finn. I’ll apologize on Mia’s behalf,” I said, crouching down and gently patting his head.

Finn blinked at me before lowering his head and mumbling, “It’s okay, Auntie. I’m not mad.”

“Oh, don’t worry about him! You should go find Mia before she runs too far,” Claudia interrupted, fidgeting nervously as her eyes darted down the street. She seemed more concerned about Mia than Finn.

“She won’t get far. Her dad’s outside.”

At that, Claudia visibly relaxed.

Oddly so. Why was she so worried about my kid while brushing off her own?

---

At lunch, after I’d picked Mia up, she was still sulking.

“You’re still upset?” I teased her. “You ran off earlier and didn’t even apologize to Finn.”

Her little face scrunched up in a pout. “Daddy said Finn isn’t good enough to play with me!”

The table fell silent.

My husband, Daniel Hart, gave me a sheepish look.

“What on earth have you been teaching her?” I looked at him and snapped.

Though she was just a child and didn’t know better, Daniel was an adult. How could he say such a thing?

“Okay, okay, let’s just eat. Do we have to argue about this now?”

My mother-in-law, Marissa Cohen, chimed in from across the table, rolling her eyes. “Kids pick up on things, you know. Maybe she overheard something and repeated it. Why make a fuss?

“Instead of worrying about that, maybe you should focus on what I told you. Get your parents’ inheritance transferred to Mia. You don’t want your family’s money falling into the wrong hands.”