Chapter 9: The Baby They Already Registered
“Your baby wasn't supposed to survive tonight.””
My mother's voice still seemed to hang in the air after the call ended.
I stared at the dark screen.
Rachel was watching me.
Claire was watching Rachel.
Nobody spoke.
Then the phone rang again.
Same number.
I answered immediately.
“Mom?””
This time a man's voice said,
“Don't trust her.””
The line disconnected.
I looked up.
Claire's face had gone rigid.
“That wasn't Darla.””
“I know.””
Rachel took the phone from my hand.
“Someone has access to her number.””
I stood.
“We have to get to St. Vincent's.””
Claire grabbed my arm.
“No.””
I pulled away.
“My baby's there.””
“You don't know that.””
“I saw the photograph.””
“You saw a photograph someone wanted you to see.””
“And my mother just told me Lily might not survive tonight.””
“She also lied to you for thirty years.””
My hand went to my belly.
The baby moved.
Hard.
I gasped.
Rachel stepped closer.
“You okay?””
I nodded.
“She kicked.””
Claire stared at my stomach.
For the first time since she'd arrived, something like hope crossed her face.
“The baby is still with you.””
I looked at her.
“Then why is there a photograph of another baby at St. Vincent's?””
“I don't know.””
“Why was that baby wearing Lily's name?””
“I don't know.””
“Why does Victor Hale's DNA appear on my daughter's report?””
She closed her eyes.
“I don't know.””
I stepped toward her.
“Then find out.””
She looked at me for a long moment.
“Okay.””
Rachel checked the clock.
“We need to leave before whoever is behind this finds us.””
We abandoned the cottage through the rear door.
The rain had slowed to a mist.
Claire led us along a narrow path through the trees until we reached a road.
Her car was hidden beneath an old tarp.
Rachel drove instead.
I sat in the back with Claire.
Nobody spoke for the first ten minutes.
Then Claire pulled the flash drive from her pocket.
“There is something else on this.””
She connected it to Rachel's phone with an adapter.
A folder opened.
Inside were dozens of files.
Hospital records.
DNA results.
Scanned photographs.
Then one video.
No date.
No title.
Claire pressed play.
My father appeared on the screen.
Older.
Tired.
Sitting in his study.
I stopped breathing.
“Emma,” he said.
My fingers tightened around the seat.
“If you're seeing this, I'm already dead.””
Rachel slowed the car.
My father's voice continued.
“I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth myself.””
He looked down at something on the desk.
“Your mother believes she protected you. She didn't.””
My eyes filled with tears.
“She protected the secret.””
He leaned closer to the camera.
“The child you grew up believing was you was not the child born under the name Emma Bennett.””
Claire covered her mouth.
My father's voice shook.
“There was a switch.””
I looked at Claire.
“My biological daughter was moved.””
He took a breath.
“Not Sophie.””
My heart stopped.
“Emma was moved.””
The car went silent.
My father continued.
“The girl everyone calls Emma Carter is the infant who was supposed to disappear.””
My body went cold.
“Victor Hale believed the wrong baby had survived.””
My father looked directly into the camera.
“He spent years searching for a daughter who was never his.””
The screen flickered.
Then he said something that made Claire gasp.
“Darla did not give up Emma.””
I leaned closer.
“She gave up the other girl.””
The video ended.
No one spoke.
My heartbeat was so loud I could barely think.
Rachel pulled the car onto the shoulder.
“What does that mean?””
Claire looked at me.
“It means the records we found were deliberately reversed.””
I shook my head.
“Then who am I?””
Claire's eyes filled with tears.
“You're the girl your father thought he lost.””
“And Sophie?””
“She was the baby everyone was told had died.””
“But you just said the switch wasn't what we thought.””
Claire nodded slowly.
“There were two switches.””
I stared at her.
She continued.
“The hospital changed the bracelets first. Then someone changed the adoption records years later.””
“Why?””
“To hide who survived.””
I looked at the photograph of the newborn.
“The baby at St. Vincent's.””
Claire was silent.
“What?””
“That's the clue.””
“To what?””
“The name Lily.””
My pulse quickened.
“Explain.””
Claire opened another file.
It contained a scanned page from the hospital's maternity registry.
She pointed.
“Look at the original entry.””
I leaned forward.
There was a name beside the infant's file.
*Lillian Mercer.*
My breath caught.
“Mercer?””
Claire nodded.
“Daniel's family name.””
“Then Lily isn't my baby's name.””
“No.””
I looked at the date.
The entry had been created thirty years ago.
Not today.
The photograph of the newborn had been attached to it recently.
My mouth went dry.
“Someone took an old identity.””
“Yes.””
“And put it on a new baby.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Claire looked at me.
“To convince everyone that your baby already existed.””
Rachel frowned.
“That's insane.””
“Not if they're planning an exchange.””
The car went silent again.
An exchange.
The word made my stomach tighten.
“No.””
Claire looked at me.
“They may intend to take your newborn.””
I shook my head.
“They can't.””
“They can if someone inside the hospital is helping them.””
St. Vincent's.
My doctor.
My prenatal records.
My mother's access.
Cole's knowledge.
Suddenly all the strange appointments made sense.
The nurse who always seemed to know when I'd arrive.
The paperwork my mother insisted on completing.
The time Darla had asked whether I planned to deliver naturally.
The way Cole had once joked that he already knew which room I'd be in.
I suddenly remembered something else.
A conversation I'd forgotten.
Three weeks ago, Cole had been on the phone in the hallway.
I'd asked who he'd been talking to.
He'd smiled.
“Hospital billing.””
I'd believed him.
I whispered,
“He's involved.””
Claire didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Rachel started the car again.
“We're going to the police.””
“No,” Claire said.
Rachel glanced at her.
“Why not?””
“Because we don't know who is compromised.””
“Then what do you suggest?””
“We go to St. Vincent's without telling anyone.””
I shook my head.
“I can't walk into that hospital alone.””
“You won't.””
We arrived twenty minutes later.
The emergency entrance was brightly lit despite the hour.
People moved behind the glass doors.
Nurses.
Orderlies.
Families.
Everything looked normal.
That made my skin crawl.
Claire handed me a baseball cap.
“Cover your hair.””
“Why?””
“Because whoever is watching may recognize you.””
Rachel looked at her.
“And you?””
Claire pulled her hood over her head.
We entered through the service corridor on the side of the building.
Claire knew the layout.
“That corridor leads behind labor and delivery.””
“How do you know?””
“I used to work here.””
She stopped at a locked door.
“Stay here.””
She slipped a card through the reader.
The door opened.
We stepped inside.
The hallway was quiet.
Too quiet.
I felt pressure in my ears.
Then I heard a baby's cry.
I turned.
“Did you hear that?””
Rachel nodded.
The cry came again.
From behind a closed door.
I moved toward it.
Claire caught my wrist.
“Wait.””
“What?””
She checked the room number.
“That's not a maternity room.””
“Then why is there a baby in there?””
We approached slowly.
The door was slightly open.
A nurse stood inside.
Her back was toward us.
She was holding a newborn.
On the bassinet beside her was a card.
I could see the name.
*LILY CARTER.*
My heart stopped.
I pushed the door open.
The nurse turned.
She was startled.
“Mrs. Carter?””
I froze.
“How do you know my name?””
She looked at the baby.
Then at me.
“I was told you were coming.””
“Who told you?””
The nurse's face changed.
She looked toward the hallway.
“Please don't make a scene.””
“Give me the baby.””
“Mrs. Carter, I can't.””
“Why?””
She lowered her voice.
“Because according to the records, this child has already been delivered.””
Rachel stared.
“That makes no sense.””
The nurse's hands shook.
“I know.””
I stepped closer.
“Where did she come from?””
The nurse looked at me.
“She was brought in two nights ago.””
My heart stopped.
“Two nights?””
“Yes.””
“By whom?””
The nurse swallowed.
“Your husband.””
Everything inside me went numb.
“Cole brought this baby here?””
“Yes.””
“That baby isn't mine.””
The nurse looked confused.
“Are you saying you aren't Lily's mother?””
“I haven't given birth yet.””
The nurse went pale.
“I know.””
“Then why does the chart say I did?””
She looked toward the computer.
“Because someone changed your admission date.””
I stepped closer.
“Who?””
The nurse didn't answer.
“Tell me.””
She whispered,
“Your mother's name is on the authorization.””
My chest tightened.
Darla.
Again.
Always Darla.
I looked at the baby.
She was tiny.
Sleeping.
A silver star bracelet was wrapped around her wrist.
The nurse noticed me staring.
“Mr. Carter told us not to remove that.””
I reached toward it.
The baby stirred.
Then opened her eyes.
My breath caught.
They were gray.
The exact same gray as my father's.
I looked at Claire.
Her face had gone white.
“That's impossible,” she whispered.
“What?””
Claire moved toward the bassinet.
“That's the same eye color as Sophie.””
The nurse looked confused.
“Sophie?””
I didn't answer.
Then the baby's tiny fingers curled around mine.
Something inside me broke.
Not because I thought she was mine.
Because I felt an immediate, terrible connection.
Blood.
Family.
Something.
The nurse stared at the monitor.
“Mrs. Carter…”
“What?””
“There’s something wrong.””
“What?””
She turned the screen toward us.
A DNA alert had appeared.
*NEWBORN SAMPLE MATCH DETECTED.*
Underneath:
*RELATIONSHIP: MATERNAL HALF-SIBLING.*
My heart stopped.
I looked at Claire.
She was crying.
The nurse whispered,
“This baby is genetically related to you.””
I stared at the newborn.
“Who is she?””
The nurse shook her head.
“She was registered under the name Lily Carter.””
Claire stepped closer.
“That isn't her name.””
The nurse looked at her.
“How do you know?””
Claire's voice trembled.
“Because that's my mother's bracelet.””
She pointed to the baby's wrist.
“The original one.””
My breath caught.
Claire wasn't looking at me anymore.
She was looking at the child.
Then she whispered,
“Emma…”
“What?””
“That baby isn't Lily.””
She swallowed.
“She is my daughter.””
I stared at her.
The baby began to cry.
And from somewhere behind us, a man's voice said,
“No.””
We turned.
Cole stood in the doorway.
His face was wet from the rain.
His eyes were fixed on the baby.
And behind him stood my mother.
Darla was holding a syringe.
Her voice broke.
“It's too late.””
She looked directly at me.
“The real Lily was born two days ago.””
My blood turned to ice.
Then she pointed toward the hallway.
“She’s in the hospital.””
Rachel whispered,
“Where?””
May you like
Darla's eyes filled with tears.
“In the morgue.””
