“I’m saying we don’t know yet,” she said. “And we can’t afford to wait.”
She slid her phone toward me. “I can stay with you while you call. Please don’t leave the building.”
“I’m at Saint Mary’s Hospital,” I said. “My doctor told me to call. They believe my baby may have been switched.”
As I spoke, I saw two uniformed officers step off the elevator at the end of the hallway, walking toward us with purpose.
In that moment, one truth settled heavily in my chest.
Ryan’s cruel demand for a DNA test hadn’t just broken my heart.
It had opened the door to something far bigger, far darker, and far more terrifying than I could have ever imagined.
And this was only the beginning.
