“Baby A was Victoria’s daughter.”
She pointed to the second baby.
“Baby B was Elena’s son.”
I looked at the bracelets.
Blue.
Pink.
My eyes filled with confusion.
“Then why did Victoria think my son was her daughter?”
Rebecca looked at her.
“Because someone switched the bracelets.”
Victoria’s face went white.
“I didn’t.”
“No.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“You didn’t.”
She looked at Arthur’s mother.
“She did.”
Arthur’s mother closed her eyes.
I stepped toward her.
“You switched the babies.”
“No.”
“You just said you changed the records.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To protect Arthur.”
“From what?”
She looked at me.
“From his father.”
Arthur came back downstairs.
He had heard the last sentence.
“My father?”
His mother nodded.
“Your father knew Victoria’s daughter existed.”
“Why would he care?”
“Because he knew who her biological father was.”
Arthur’s face hardened.
“Who?”
She hesitated.
Then finally said,
“Daniel Cross.”
Victoria gasped.
Rebecca stepped backward.
Arthur stared.
“That’s impossible.”
His mother shook her head.
“No.”
Arthur looked at Victoria.
“Was Daniel Cross the father?”
Victoria didn’t answer.
Arthur grabbed the back of a chair.
“Victoria.”
She began crying.
“Yes.”
The room went silent.
I looked at Arthur.
“Who is Daniel Cross?”
His face had gone pale.
“My father’s greatest enemy.”
Victoria whispered,
“He was the only man your father ever truly feared.”
I looked down at my son.
“What does this have to do with him?”
Arthur’s mother stood.
“Everything.”
She walked toward the photograph.
“Your son was born eleven minutes after Victoria’s daughter.”
She touched the image.
“Your father believed that if Victoria’s daughter survived, Daniel Cross could eventually claim a connection to the family.”
Arthur frowned.
“So you switched the records to hide her?”
“Yes.”
“And made my son appear to be the only child.”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
“Because your father wanted the heir protected.”
Arthur stared at her.
“You’re saying you stole a child’s identity to protect me?”
“I saved your life.”
“You destroyed hers.”
Victoria screamed.
“You destroyed my daughter’s life!”
Her mother turned toward her.
“I was trying to save her too.”
“No!”
Victoria collapsed into a chair.
“You lied to me for years!”
“I had no choice.”
“You told me she died!”
“I needed you to believe it.”
Victoria covered her face.
I looked at her.
“You tried to take my son.”
She looked up.
“I thought he was my daughter.”
“You almost hurt him.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you had stolen her.”
Her voice broke.
“I spent years believing my baby was dead.”
She stared at my son.
“Then I saw him.”
“What did you see?”
“Her.”
I felt a chill.
“What?”
“The same eyes.”
She shook her head.
“I knew it couldn’t be possible.”
“But you believed it anyway.”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“Why didn’t you get a DNA test?”
Victoria’s expression changed.
For the first time, she looked truly frightened.
“Because I already did.”
Arthur froze.
“You did what?”
Victoria looked at him.
“I tested the baby.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
“Before tonight.”
“Where is the result?”
She didn’t answer.
Arthur’s voice became sharp.
“Victoria.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“I hid it.”
“Where?”
She swallowed.
“Inside the nursery.”
I tightened my arms around my son.
Arthur stared at her.
“You tested our son without telling us.”
“I needed to know.”
“What did the test say?”
Victoria began crying.
“I don’t know.”
Arthur frowned.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I never got the result.”
“Why?”
“Because someone took it.”
The room fell silent.
I whispered,
“Who?”
Victoria looked directly at Arthur’s mother.
“She did.”
Arthur turned.
His mother didn’t deny it.
I stared at her.
“Why would you take a DNA test proving who the baby is?”
She looked at me.
“Because the result would have exposed the final secret.”
“What secret?”
She didn’t answer.
Arthur stepped forward.
“Mom.”
His voice was low.
“What was in that test?”
His mother looked at our son.
Then at me.
Then at Arthur.
Finally, she said:
“The child in that crib may not be the child you think he is.”
My heart stopped.
Arthur stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
She pointed toward the photograph.
“Look at the names.”
I looked down.
The photograph had been damaged around the edges.
I hadn’t noticed it before.
But underneath the two labels was another line.
A handwritten note.
I turned the photograph over.
On the back, beneath the date, were four words.
DNA RESULT — MATCH FAILED.
My hands began shaking.
Arthur stepped closer.
“That’s impossible.”
Seine Mutter flüsterte,
“Deshalb habe ich den Namen im Kinderbett geändert.”
Ich sah meinen schlafenden Sohn an.
Dann auf das Foto.
Dann zu Arthur.
Und plötzlich fühlte sich der Raum zu klein an.
Denn wenn dieses Ergebnis echt wäre…
dann war das Geheimnis nicht, welches Baby Victoria gehörte.
Das Geheimnis war viel schlimmer.
Jemand hatte die Identität meines Sohnes geändert.
