The Baby They Swapped

"Genevieve, just look at the thing you gave birth to."

Patricia slammed her thermos onto the coffee table the second I walked through the doors with my baby in my arms.

"He's all wrinkled, and his cry is so weak that even a person's whisper is louder than his. Even worse, he doesn't even look like Gabriel? You didn't cheat on him and have this kid with someone else, did you?"

I ignored her and lowered my head to straighten the baby's swaddle. "Patricia, you were the one who brought this baby back from the hospital."

Patricia's expression stiffened for a moment, and she averted her eyes. "So what if I brought him back? Who knows who his father is?"

I paid her no mind and carried the baby boy into the bedroom.

My seven-year-old daughter, Nina, was lying beside the bed. She blinked up at me before asking, "Mom, is Oliver asleep?"

I stroked her head. "Yes."

Nina rose onto her tiptoes and leaned toward the baby for a look. Then, she lowered her voice and whispered, "Mom, I pulled off Oliver's hospital bracelet. Grandma won't find out, will she?"

My hand froze as I stared at her in confusion. "What bracelet?"

Nina pulled a severed blue plastic band from her pocket. It read, "Evelyn Reed's Son."

My whole body tensed the moment I read it. "Nina, where did you get that?"

Nina shrank back nervously. "Last night at the hospital, Grandma told the nurse to take you for some tests. Then, she took Oliver away and went to the room next door. I snuck after her. That's when I saw her put Oliver beside a woman's bed and bring that woman's baby back.

"Grandma even said, 'This little bastard is going to be your son now.'"

I clenched the bracelet so tightly that I could feel my nails digging into my palm. "What did you do?"

Nina lifted her face, looking a little proud of herself as she declared, "After Grandma left and that woman fell asleep, I snuck back in and switched Oliver back! I even cut off his bracelet so they wouldn't be able to tell the difference!"

I looked at the sleeping baby in my arms, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

Only now did I understand why Patricia had looked at the baby with such disgust when we left the hospital today. She thought the baby in my arms was Evelyn's son.

Earlier, she had switched my biological son and given him to Evelyn.

I pulled Nina tightly into my arms, my voice trembling. "You did the right thing, Nina. No one is allowed to take Oliver away from us. No one."

Just then, I heard Patricia talking on the phone in the living room. So, I went to the doorway and peeked through the crack.

There, I saw Patricia covering the receiver with a smug smile spreading across her wrinkled face.

"Evelyn, don't worry. Everything went perfectly. That bitch's healthy son is in your arms right now. I brought your baby with the congenital heart defect back to her.

"Once the baby's one-month celebration comes around, we can sit back and enjoy watching her make a fool of herself."

My gaze turned ice-cold as I listened to Patricia natter away.

Evelyn was Gabriel Montgomery's childhood sweetheart.

Three months ago, she had shown up at our door, obviously pregnant, and claimed she was carrying Gabriel's child.

Gabriel swore up and down that he had only slept with her because he was drunk and begged me to forgive him.

Patricia had even gotten down on her knees and begged me not to divorce him for Nina's sake.

Back then, I bought their lies. I never imagined they could be so vicious.

They had taken my healthy son and switched him for Evelyn's sickly baby.

I pushed open the door and walked out.

Patricia jumped in surprise and hurriedly hung up. "Do you always walk around without making a sound?"

I looked at her. "Patricia, who were you talking to?"

Patricia's eyes flickered. "Can't I call a relative to share the good news?"

I smiled. "Of course, you can. But I have this odd feeling that the baby you brought back resembles Evelyn the longer I look at him, Patricia."

The expression on Patricia's face froze, but she quickly recovered and snapped, "What nonsense are you talking about? He looks just like you. He has that same poor, shabby look like the one you're wearing now."

I didn't argue. Instead, I lowered my eyes to the baby in my arms as my lips quirked into a mocking smile.

As he should. After all, my own flesh and blood should look like me.