Chapter 3
I called the number immediately.
No answer.
I called again.
Voicemail.
“This is Sarah. Whoever you are, call me back.”
Rachel leaned over my shoulder.
“Did they say where?”
“No.”
“Could it be Melissa?”
“I don't know.”
I typed.
Who are you?
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally:
Ask Jason why he really met me at the hotel.
My stomach tightened.
So it was Melissa.
Or someone who knew about her.
I called Jason.
He answered on the first ring.
“How’s Emma?”
“She needed stitches.”
Silence.
“God.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“With your mother?”
“No. She left.”
“Good. I’m coming there.”
“Sarah, maybe Emma should stay at Rachel’s tonight.”
I almost laughed.
“You don't get to decide where she stays anymore.”
“I’m not trying to—”
“Have every message, email, photograph, and document from Melissa ready when I arrive.”
He was quiet.
“Okay.”
“And Jason?”
“Yes?”
“If you delete one thing, I’m taking Emma and you won't know where we are until a judge tells you.”
“I won't delete anything.”
I ended the call.
Rachel looked worried.
“You sure you want to go back tonight?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because somebody switched my baby.”
Saying it aloud made me dizzy.
“And my husband has known something for two months.”
Emma stayed with Rachel’s husband and their teenage daughter.
I hated leaving her after what happened.
But I couldn't bring her back into that house.
Not tonight.
Before I left, I kissed the bandage on her cheek.
“Where are you going?”
“To talk to Daddy.”
“Are you mad?”
“Yes.”
She thought about that.
“Is Daddy in trouble?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Good.”
Rachel almost laughed.
I nearly did too.
Then Emma touched my cheek.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“You're still my mommy, right?”
Everything inside me cracked.
I hugged her.
“Always.”
“But Grandma said—”
“I don't care what Grandma said.”
“What if I came from another lady?”
I held her face between my hands.
“Then that lady helped bring you into this world. But I am your mommy because I have loved you every single day of your life.”
She nodded.
“That’s what I thought.”
I cried all the way to the car.
Jason was sitting at the kitchen table when we arrived.
His laptop was open.
The ruined birthday decorations were still everywhere.
A pink balloon floated near the ceiling.
Half the smashed cake remained on the floor.
I wanted to burn the entire room down.
Instead, I sat opposite him.
Rachel stayed beside me.
Jason pushed the laptop forward.
“Everything is here.”
I saw a folder named MELISSA.
“How romantic.”
“Sarah.”
“Open it.”
There were emails.
Dozens of them.
The first was dated eight weeks earlier.
Jason,
My name is Melissa Grant. I worked at St. Matthew’s Medical Center in maternity four years ago. I have information concerning your daughter Emma’s birth. I believe a crime occurred that night. Your mother knows more than she has told you.
I looked at Jason.
“You got this and said nothing?”
“I thought it was a scam.”
“Then what?”
“She sent proof.”
The next email contained a photograph of Diane entering a restricted hospital hallway.
Timestamp: 2:14 a.m.
The night after I gave birth.
My mouth went dry.
Another picture showed Diane speaking with a nurse.
I looked closer.
Melissa.
Younger.
Same blonde hair.
Same face from the hotel photograph.
“Why was your mother there at two in the morning?”
Jason shook his head.
“She told me she went home around eleven.”
“She lied.”
“Yes.”
“Keep going.”
The third email contained copies of patient records.
Two mothers.
Sarah Miller.
Lauren Carter.
Both had delivered daughters within forty minutes.
I recognized my information.
Weight.
Blood type.
Time of birth.
I stopped breathing.
My baby had weighed seven pounds, four ounces.
Emma’s hospital discharge sheet listed six pounds, eleven ounces.
I had noticed the discrepancy four years earlier.
A nurse told me scales sometimes varied.
I accepted it.
Now I felt stupid.
I had trusted them.
Jason whispered, “I saw that too.”
“And still said nothing.”
“I wanted confirmation.”
“You keep saying that like it makes you sound reasonable.”
Rachel pointed toward the screen.
“What happened after Melissa contacted you?”
Jason scrolled.
Melissa wanted money.
Of course.
Twenty thousand dollars for the rest of the evidence.
“You paid her?” I asked.
“Five thousand.”
“From where?”
He looked away.
Our savings.
I knew immediately.
“You stole from our joint account.”
“I moved money.”
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
My marriage had apparently been built from trapdoors.
“Then you met her.”
“At a coffee shop first.”
“And later the hotel.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She said the documents were in a room upstairs.”
Rachel frowned.
“That sounds like a setup.”
“It was.”
Jason rubbed both hands over his face.
“She kissed me outside.”
“And you couldn't stop her?”
“I did stop her.”
“The picture says otherwise.”
“The picture captured maybe two seconds.”
He opened another file.
A video.
The hotel parking lot.
Melissa stepped toward Jason and kissed him.
He froze.
Then pushed her away.
The video continued.
I stared.
He hadn't kissed her back.
At least not really.
I felt no relief.
“You hid all of this.”
“Yes.”
“That was enough betrayal.”
“I know.”
“Why did she kiss you?”
“To create leverage.”
“For what?”
“She said if I didn't pay the rest, she’d send you the photograph and tell you we were having an affair.”
“So you decided hiding it was smarter.”
“No. I decided I needed time.”
“You always need time when honesty would cost you something.”
He lowered his eyes.
Rachel whispered, “Sarah.”
I knew she was warning me to stay focused.
I inhaled.
“Where are the divorce papers in all this?”
Jason looked miserable.
“Mom has been pushing me to leave you for months.”
“Why?”
“She kept telling me you were turning Emma against her.”
I almost screamed.
“Emma is four.”
“I know.”
“She’s afraid of your mother because your mother is cruel.”
“I know that now.”
“Now?”
His face twisted.
“I screwed up.”
“That doesn't begin to cover it.”
He looked at me.
“I thought you hated my family. I thought every disagreement became me choosing between you and Mom.”
“Because she made it that way.”
“Yes.”
The word came quietly.
“Yes.”
I wasn't prepared for that.
He continued.
“She kept telling me you would leave eventually. That you'd take Emma. That I needed to protect myself.”
“So you signed divorce papers.”
“I signed a draft she brought me. I hadn't filed anything.”
“Were you going to?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation hurt worse than yes.
“I don't know.”
I stood.
“Then our marriage was already over.”
“Sarah—”
“Sit down.”
He did.
I clicked through more files.
Then found something called CARTER.
Inside was a social media screenshot.
A woman with dark hair held a little girl.
The girl's face was partly turned away.
But I could see enough.
Green eyes.
A dimple in her left cheek.
My dimple.
I stopped breathing.
“Who is that?”
Jason whispered, “Lauren Carter.”
“And the child?”
He didn't answer.
“Jason.”
“We think her name is Lily.”
We.
He said we.
He and Melissa.
My husband had been investigating my biological daughter without me.
I enlarged the photograph.
The little girl looked about four.
Same age as Emma.
My hand moved toward the screen.
I touched her face.
Something instinctive tore through me.
I didn't know her.
But my body did.
Or maybe I wanted it to.
“Where does she live?”
“Melissa didn't tell me.”
“Why?”
“She wanted the rest of the money.”
“Then we find Lauren ourselves.”
Rachel had already taken out her phone.
“Public records.”
Jason shook his head.
“Melissa warned me not to contact her.”
I looked up sharply.
“Why?”
“She said Lauren believes Lily is her biological child.”
“Just like I believed Emma was mine.”
“Yes.”
A terrible realization settled over the room.
“If Emma came home with me…”
I looked back at Lily’s photograph.
“Then Lauren probably took my baby home.”
Nobody spoke.
I imagined another woman rocking my newborn.
Singing to her.
Feeding her.
Watching her first steps.
Calling herself Mommy.
And I hated her for three seconds.
Then I hated myself.
Because Lauren might be just as innocent as I was.
Rachel touched my shoulder.
“We need tests before anything.”
“Yes.”
I wiped my eyes.
“Tomorrow.”
Jason nodded.
“I'll do whatever you want.”
I stared at him.
“This isn't about what I want anymore. It's about what you should have done eight weeks ago.”
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
We all looked at it.
He answered on speaker.
“Hello?”
A woman was crying.
“Jason?”
He froze.
“Melissa?”
“You need to listen to me.”
“Where are you?”
“Your mother found out I contacted Sarah.”
My heart pounded.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
Jason stood.
“What happened?”
Melissa breathed hard.
“She came to my apartment.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Call the police.”
“I already did.”
A loud sound came through the phone.
Melissa gasped.
Then whispered, “Oh God.”
“What?”
“She’s back.”
Jason grabbed his keys.
“Melissa, lock the door.”
“She isn't alone.”
“Who is with her?”
The line went quiet.
Then Melissa said something that made my blood turn cold.
“The nurse who switched your babies.”
Jason and I stared at each other.
Rachel whispered, “Ask her name.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“Melissa, who is it?”
Silence.
“Melissa!”
May you like
Finally, she whispered:
“Jason’s father.”
