“Yes.”
“She agreed to raise a child who wasn’t legally hers?”
“She believed what I told her. I said you gave him up.”
Rage surged—but beneath it, something steadier formed.
Resolve.
“I want a DNA test.”
“You’ll get one.”
“And then we involve attorneys.”
“You’re going to take him.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. But I won’t let this stay hidden.”
“I was wrong,” she whispered.
“That doesn’t undo five years.”
We walked back to the boys.
“Mom! Eli says he dreams about me, too!”
I knelt and pulled Stefan close.
“Eli,” I asked gently, “how long have you had that birthmark?”
“Forever,” he said shyly.
I met the nurse’s eyes. “This isn’t over.”
The following week blurred into phone calls, legal consultations, and a tense meeting with hospital administration. Records were examined. Questions were asked.
The former nurse—Patricia—didn’t fight the investigation.
Eventually, the truth stood in black and white.
The DNA test confirmed it.
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