Chapter 4: The Night Diane Should Never Have Known About
“Ask your wife what she was doing in the nursery at two in the morning.””
Diane's words settled over the living room like smoke.
Marcus stared at me, Lily resting against my shoulder, while the photograph of Rebecca Shaw lay between us.
“What nursery?”” he asked.
I opened my mouth, but Diane answered first.
“The hospital nursery. The night Lily was born.”” She tilted her head toward me.
“Perhaps Nia can explain why she was wandering around the maternity ward when every other mother was in bed.””
“I wasn't wandering around,” I said.
“Then tell him where you were.””
“I was looking for my daughter.””
Diane gave a short, humorless laugh.
“And you expect us to believe that?””
“I don't care what you believe.””
The words surprised even me.
For three days, I had tried to make Diane understand that I hadn't betrayed her son. I had explained, pleaded, and cried until my throat hurt. But standing there with Lily in my arms, I finally understood that Diane didn't need to believe me.
She needed Marcus not to.
Marcus placed the photograph on the table.
“Nia, did you go into the nursery that night?””
“Yes.””
His eyes narrowed.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I didn't think it mattered.””
“How could it not matter if my mother is accusing you of switching babies?””
“I didn't switch anyone's baby!””
Lily startled at the sudden rise in my voice. I immediately lowered my head and rocked her gently.
Diane crossed her arms.
“Then explain what happened.””
I took a slow breath.
The memory came back with the sharpness of cold air against bare skin.
It had been just after two in the morning. I had spent nearly a day in labor, and every part of my body hurt. Marcus had gone home to shower and collect a few things after the nurse assured us that Lily and I were stable.
I was alone when I heard a newborn crying in the corridor.
It wasn't an ordinary cry. It was frantic and breathless, stopping for a few seconds before starting again.
I pressed the call button.
When no one came immediately, I got out of bed and followed the sound.
I had barely made it to the corridor when I saw a nurse pushing a bassinet toward the nursery.
“Excuse me,” I called.
“Is everything okay?””
The nurse turned.
Her badge read ELENA.
She looked exhausted.
“Everything is under control, Mrs. Carter. Please return to your room.””
“Whose baby is crying?””
“A baby who needs medical attention.””
“Can I help?””
“No. Please, you need to rest.””
But as she turned, I saw a small hospital identification band lying on the floor beside the bassinet.
I picked it up.
“Excuse me! You dropped this.””
Elena stopped so abruptly that the bassinet rolled a few inches before she caught it.
For one second, her face changed.
Then she snatched the band from my hand.
“Thank you,” she said.
She hurried away.
I returned to my room, but I couldn't sleep. Something about the nurse's reaction bothered me. I had spent the last twenty-six hours listening to monitors, watching staff check identification bands, and learning how carefully newborns were supposed to be handled.
At approximately two-thirty, I heard raised voices near the nurses' station.
I stepped into the hallway again.
Through the partially open door of a small consultation room, I saw Elena speaking to another nurse.
“I can't sign off on this,” Elena whispered.
The other nurse replied, “You need to follow the supervisor's instructions.””
“What if the labels are wrong?””
“They aren't your responsibility.””
I remember standing frozen in the corridor.
Then a door opened farther down the hall, and a hospital orderly pushed a cart between us.
By the time I looked back, the consultation room was empty.
I had intended to tell Marcus in the morning.
But when he returned, he was so excited about holding Lily that I convinced myself I had misunderstood what I heard. Later, when I tried to mention the incident to a nurse, Elena approached me and said the hospital had already reviewed a minor labeling concern.
She assured me that every baby's identity had been verified.
I wanted to believe her.
So I let it go.
Now Diane was using that night to accuse me of something I had never done.
When I finished explaining, Marcus remained silent.
Diane seized the silence.
“Convenient,” she said.
“You admit you were in the nursery, but you expect us to believe you did nothing.””
“I picked up an identification band. That's all.””
“Where is it?””
“I handed it to the nurse.””
“Which nurse?””
“Elena.””
Diane looked at Marcus.
“You see? She has a name ready.””
Marcus turned toward his mother.
“Stop.””
Diane blinked.
“Excuse me?””
“I said stop talking about my wife as though she's a criminal.””
The words were quiet, but something in his expression made Diane step back.
I felt a flicker of relief.
Then Marcus looked at me again.
“But I need to know why you kept this from me.””
“I didn't keep a secret from you. I forgot an incident that seemed unimportant after the hospital told me everything was fine.””
“You could have told me.””
“Yes,” I said.
“I could have. And you could have asked me a single question before deciding I had betrayed you.””
He looked away.
Diane picked up the photograph.
“Enough. We are wasting time arguing about memories. The hospital has already admitted there was a discrepancy. The sensible thing is to establish the truth about Lily's parentage.””
I stared at her.
“The hospital never said Lily wasn't Marcus's daughter.””
“Then a DNA test should settle everything.””
Marcus hesitated.
I watched the conflict move across his face.
“Would you take one?”” he asked.
The question cut deep.
“Of course,” I said.
“If it means ending this nightmare.””
Diane smiled as if she had won.
“Wonderful. I'll arrange everything.””
“No,” I said immediately.
She frowned.
“What?””
“You will not arrange anything. We will use an independent laboratory, chosen by both parents, with documented chain of custody.””
Diane's expression tightened.
“How distrustful.””
“I'm learning from experience.””
Marcus looked at me, and for the first time, he almost smiled.
Then his phone rang.
He checked the screen and answered.
“Hello?””
A man's voice came through loudly enough for me to hear a few words.
“Mr. Carter? This is Daniel Reeves from the hospital's compliance office. We need to speak with you and your wife about the report.””
Marcus straightened.
“Can you tell us what you found?””
“Not over the phone. But I strongly advise you to come in tomorrow morning.””
“Is our daughter in danger?””
“No, sir. This is a records investigation. However, there is a matter involving another newborn that requires your attention.””
Diane moved closer.
“Ask him whether Rebecca Shaw's baby is involved.””
Marcus stared at her.
The voice on the phone went silent.
Then Daniel asked, “Mrs. Carter, how do you know that name?””
Diane's lips parted.
For once, she had no immediate answer.
Marcus slowly lowered the phone.
“Mom,” he said, “how do you know Rebecca Shaw?””
Diane looked from her son to me.
Then she picked up her handbag.
May you like
“I think,” she said, her voice suddenly brittle, “we should all be very careful about what we say next.””
And she walked out of the house without another word.
