“Yes.”

“You saw Chloe.”

“Yes.”

“You saw the baby.”

Laura looked at me.

“Yes.”

“What did the baby look like?”

She hesitated.

“Small.”

“Anything else?”

“Dark hair.”

My heart skipped.

“Birthmark?”

Laura looked at me.

“Yes.”

My knees almost gave out.

“Where?”

“Under the left ear.”

I closed my eyes.

It was the same.

The same mark.

The same place.

The same strange coincidence that had started all of this.

My attorney stood.

“Did you personally identify Chloe's baby?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Wristband.”

“Which number?”

Laura looked down.

“5820.”

“And Jennifer's baby?”

“5821.”

“Were they ever confused?”

Laura didn't answer.

“Were they?”

She swallowed.

“For a few minutes.”

My heart stopped.

“What?”

“There was a moment when the nursery list didn't match the bassinets.”

My attorney leaned forward.

“Explain.”

Laura took a shaky breath.

“Someone moved two identification cards.”

“Who?”

“I don't know.”

“Were the babies moved?”

“No.”

“Then what happened?”

“The cards were placed on the wrong bassinets.”

I stared at her.

“Who moved them?”

“I don't know.”

“You're lying.”

“No.”

“You're protecting someone.”

Laura looked at me.

“I am.”

“Who?”

She didn't answer.

My attorney asked quietly:

“Daniel?”

Laura shook her head.

“No.”

“Then who?”

Laura looked at the door.

Then back at me.

“The woman in the footage.”

I frowned.

“What woman?”

“The other nurse.”

“What other nurse?”

“The woman Daniel was speaking to after he left the nursery.”

My heart began pounding.

“You said Daniel was alone.”

“Not afterward.”

“Show me.”

Laura opened another video file.

The timestamp read:

03:06:12

The nursery corridor.

Daniel stood near the nurses' station.

A woman approached him.

She wore a hospital uniform.

Her hair was dark.

She handed him something.

A small envelope.

Daniel looked at it.

Then looked around.

He put it inside his jacket.

The woman walked away.

Daniel followed her with his eyes.

My attorney paused the footage.

“Who is she?”

Laura whispered:

“Chloe.”

I stared at the screen.

“What?”

“That's Chloe.”

“No.”

“She was in the hospital.”

“But she had just given birth.”

“Yes.”

“She was supposed to be recovering.”

“She left her room.”

“Why?”

Laura looked at me.

“Because Daniel called her.”

My stomach dropped.

“Why?”

“To tell her something had gone wrong.”

“What had gone wrong?”

Laura didn't answer.

“Laura.”

“He told her the baby's identification was wrong.”

I stared at the screen.

“Whose baby?”

“He didn't say.”

My attorney rewound the footage.

We watched again.

Daniel.

Chloe.

The envelope.

The nursery.

The missing records.

The two wristbands.

Everything was beginning to connect.

But one question remained.

If the babies were never switched, why had Daniel been so desperate to control their identification?

I looked at Laura.

“What was inside the envelope?”

She shook her head.

“I don't know.”

“You saw him take it.”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever see it again?”

Laura hesitated.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“The next morning.”

“Where?”

“In the trash.”

My heart jumped.

“What?”

“Daniel threw it away.”

“Did you retrieve it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I was scared.”

I looked at her.

“Scared enough to let evidence disappear?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She stared at me.

“Because Daniel knew about my brother.”

I frowned.

“What about your brother?”

“He was in prison.”

My attorney's expression changed.

“For what?”

Laura looked down.

“Fraud.”

I understood.

Daniel had leverage.

Money.

Fear.

Secrets.

The same weapons he had used against me.

“You said Daniel could destroy you.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“He threatened to tell the police that my brother had violated his parole.”

“Did he?”

“No.”

“Then why were you afraid?”

“Because he had evidence.”

I sat down.

This wasn't just an affair anymore.

Daniel had built a network of secrets.

He knew how to make people afraid.

He knew how to make them obey.

And he had done it at the hospital.

My attorney closed the laptop.

“We need the original footage.”

Laura shook her head.

“There isn't any.”

“There has to be.”

“The system was replaced.”

“When?”

“Two weeks after the incident.”

“Convenient.”

Laura looked at me.

“Yes.”

I picked up the USB drive.

“Who authorized the replacement?”

Laura's face changed.

“I don't know.”

“Find out.”

She looked at me.

“I can't.”

“You can.”

“Jennifer—”

“You've already risked everything to give me this.”

I held up the drive.

“Don't stop now.”

She stared at me.

Then slowly nodded.

“I'll try.”

We left the room.

As we walked down the corridor, my attorney's phone rang.

She answered.

Her expression changed.

“What?”

She listened.

Then looked at me.

“Jennifer.”

“What?”

“It's Daniel.”

My stomach tightened.

“What about him?”

“He just contacted the hospital.”

“Why?”

She lowered the phone.

“He's demanding that all records related to the night of Lily's birth be sealed.”

I stared at her.

“Can he do that?”

“No.”

“Then why would he try?”

She looked at me.

“Because he knows we're close.”

I felt a chill move through me.

“Close to what?”

She didn't answer.

Instead, she handed me the phone.

There was an email from the hospital administration.

One sentence.

A request has been made to restrict access to the archived maternity records.

I looked at the timestamp.

The request had been made ten minutes earlier.

By Daniel Carter.

I stared at the screen.

Then my own phone buzzed.

A message from Chloe.

I opened it.

Jennifer, we need to talk.

Another message came immediately.

Daniel lied to both of us.

Then another.

But what he lied about isn't the baby.

My breath caught.

I typed:

Then what is it?

The three dots appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared again.

Then Chloe finally replied.

He told me Lily was never supposed to be born.

I stared at the words.

My blood ran cold.

Before I could respond, another message arrived.

Meet me tonight.

Then:

Come alone.

I looked at my attorney.

She shook her head immediately.

“No.”

I almost smiled.

“That's what I was going to say.”

I put my phone away.

But as we walked toward the hospital exit, I couldn't stop thinking about Chloe's words.

Lily was never supposed to be born.

It didn't make sense.

Lily was my daughter.

She was wanted.

She was loved.

At least by me.

So what had Daniel meant?

What had he planned?

And why had he spent three months terrified that I would discover the truth?

I looked through the hospital glass doors.

Across the parking lot, a black car was waiting.

Daniel's car.

He was sitting behind the wheel.

Watching us.

He didn't get out.

He didn't call.

He simply watched.

Then he raised his phone.

My phone vibrated.

One message.

From Daniel.

You should have stayed home.

I looked up.

His car was already moving.

It disappeared around the corner.

I stared after him.

For the first time, I wasn't afraid of what Daniel might do.

I was afraid of what he had already done.

And somewhere inside St. Mary's, hidden among thousands of hospital records, was the answer.

The answer to why my husband had entered a nursery at 2:51 a.m.

The answer to why a nurse had risked her career.

The answer to why two newborn identification records had been altered.

And perhaps the answer to why Daniel had once told Chloe that my daughter was never supposed to be born.

I held the USB drive tighter.

The footage had given me a woman.

The records had given me a timeline.

But neither had given me the truth.

Not yet.

And tonight, I was going to meet the one person who claimed she knew exactly what Daniel had done.

Chloe.