2!

MABEL

My legs kept vibrating underneath the doctor's table as I tried to calm my wailing baby on my lap.

His screams were the only thing I heard whenever he was around me.

Ever since I gave birth six months ago, he hasn't stopped crying, except when his father or grandmother holds him.

No matter what I did, he doesn't seem to want me around. He doesn't even take my breast milk.

"Why is he still like this?" I asked as I placed him in the cot I brought along. "You told me to bond with him as much as I could, and that all he needed was my touch."

"Newborns are fragile and unaware of their surroundings. You need to make him aware of you," the doctor said, and I hissed.

"I have tried doing that for the past six months, but it all failed. Please tell me exactly what I should do."

He didn't say a word. He just looked at me with pity in his eyes. I looked at my son, who hadn't stopped crying since I put him down.

It was torture to hear my son cry like that. Maybe it would be better if I just... stopped trying to hold him. Just thinking about it made my heart tighten. No, I couldn't lose him.

"Why can't you just love me?" I thought as I stared at him. "I'm your mother after all."

"You are," the doctor said, interrupting my thoughts. "He just needs time."

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Doctor. It hasn't been easy. With a constantly crying baby, and my husband has been away on business for some time now."

"I totally understand," he said, nodding.

"Hey, look," he said with a smile. "He's no longer crying."

I turned around immediately to look at my son, only to find a terrifying picture.

Hailey.

The woman my husband called his best friend.

And there he was, my baby, wrapped so peacefully in her arms. His face, once red from constant screaming, was now soft and peaceful. His tiny fist curled against her shoulder. His body looked completely at ease.

He looked so at home in her arms. He curled into her body like he was made for her. Like she was his mother.

"He's so precious," Hailey cooed, rocking him gently.

The doctor cleared his throat. "How are you doing, Miss Brooks? After... everything?"

Hailey's smile faltered for just a second. "I'm managing."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," he said quietly.

My head snapped up. "Loss?"

Hailey's eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw something raw there. Pain. Grief.

Then it was gone, replaced by that serene mask.

"My baby was stillborn," she said softly. "Same day as Jason's birth."

My mouth went dry. "I... I didn't know."

"No one did," Claire's voice cut through the room. I hadn't even realized she was there.

She walked deeper into the office, her presence commanding attention. "We kept it private. Hailey deserves her privacy during such a difficult time."

Hailey looked down at Jason, her grip tightening just slightly.

"Which is why," Claire continued, "she's been such a comfort to you, Mabel. Helping with Jason. It's been... therapeutic for her."

The way she said it made my skin crawl.

Therapeutic.

Like my son was some kind of emotional support animal for her grief.

I didn't realize I had stood up. My chest felt tight. My legs wobbled. My baby, my own baby, was lying there in her arms like he belonged to her.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"What do you think she's doing?" Claire said. "She's keeping your son happy. A job you fail to do."

My body tensed immediately after hearing the cruel truth. I gritted my teeth and didn't let it get me down. I could fix that. I loved my son so much, and no one could deny my connection to him.

"You have no idea what my job is," I said to her, keeping an eye on my son as he made soft cooing sounds with Hailey. "Not like you would know. You haven't been around."

My shoulders dropped as I looked at them. He has never done that with me. All he does is cry whenever he's with me.

Something flickered in Claire's eyes, guilt, maybe. But it vanished in an instant, swept away by her usual cold stare.

"I had better things to do than watch you play house with my son," she snapped.

"Your job is simple. Look presentable. Keep the Hoss name clean. And raise the child right."

Hailey shifted the baby in her arms, her smile stretching wider. I could see it—the satisfaction in her eyes. She loved this. She was drinking this in.

My baby let out a tiny laugh in her arms, and I felt something inside me tear.

"I want him back," I said.

Hailey's head tilted, like she hadn't heard me clearly.

I stepped forward. "I said, give me my son."

She gave a soft sigh. "Mabel, he just calmed down. Maybe you should…"

"I should what?" I snapped.

"Hold off till he's fallen asleep," she said softly, and I scoffed.

"I won't say it a second time. Hand him over." She tightened her grip on my son, and I lunged forward, ready to do whatever was necessary.

"Now."

That came out harsher than I intended, but I didn't care. She was coming between me and my child.

Her eyes narrowed, but she handed him over slowly, like I was about to break him.

The moment his little body was back in my arms, he started to scream. Loud and sharp. Like I was hurting him just by holding him.

I froze.

His tiny face scrunched in anger, fists

waving, legs kicking.

I looked down at him, and all I could think was: He hates me. My own baby hates me.

"He needs a real mother," Claire said under her breath.

I looked up, stunned. "Excuse me?"

But she was already walking toward the door, grabbing her purse like we were done here.

Hailey stepped beside me. She didn't look at me, just at the baby.

"You should get some rest, Mabel," she said gently. "You look... tired."

I wanted to slap that sweetness off her face.

They left me there like that, in that cold doctor's office, rocking a baby who wouldn't stop crying, and wondering if I was really meant to be his mother at all.

I clutched my son tighter while he was still crying. Tears silently streamed down my face.

I didn't know if I would be able to muster up the courage to win him back the next time I saw him prefer Hailey.

Every time I tried to get him to recognize me as his mother, it felt like a battle.

Things shouldn't be like this. But I had no idea what the problem was.

I was buckling Jason into his car seat when my phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I almost ignored it, spam calls were constant, but something made me look.

The message was short. Just four words:

"He's not your son."

My blood went cold.

I stared at the screen, heart hammering.

Another message came through:

"Check his birthmark."

I looked down at Jason, still fussing in his seat. Birthmark? What birthmark?

I'd examined every inch of my baby. There was no birthmark.

My fingers hovered over the reply button, but before I could type, a third message appeared:"They lied to you."

Then the number went dead. Blocked.

I sat there in the parking lot, shaking.

It was just a prank. Some sick joke.

But I couldn't stop thinking about it.

That feeling in the hospital. That distance. That wrongness.

No.

I shook my head and started the car.

I was just being paranoid. The doctor said postpartum anxiety was normal.

Jason was my son.

He had to be....Right?