“We have to call the hospital,” I whispered.
Daniel reached for his phone, but just then Max appeared in the doorway.
“Don’t call the nurse with the blue glasses,” he said.
We both looked at him.
“What nurse?” I asked.
“The one who took the babies,” Max replied. “She told another woman not to worry because no one would notice.”
My hands began to shake.
Daniel called the hospital and demanded to speak with the head of the maternity ward. The woman on the other end of the line fell strangely silent when he read the name on the bracelet.
“Please don’t remove it,” she said. “Bring the baby back immediately.”
Twenty minutes later, we were driving through the empty streets. I sat in the back seat beside the newborn while Max held my hand tightly.
When we arrived at the maternity ward, two hospital administrators and a security officer were already waiting for us.
They escorted us into a private room and began verifying the baby’s identity.
The results confirmed our worst nightmare.
The baby we had brought home was not biologically ours.
Her name was Sophie Thompson.
She had been born just forty minutes after our daughter.
I nearly collapsed.
“Where is my baby?” I demanded.
No one answered.
Finally, the head of the department admitted that the Thompson family had already been discharged earlier that day.
