For the next two days, Mark stayed close.
He brought me flowers.
Helped me sit up.
Talked to nurses for me whenever I was too tired.
Everyone kept telling me how supportive he seemed.
And I believed them.
Then, on the morning my baby Martin was finally brought into my room, a nurse named Judy walked in.
She smiled at Mark.
“Congratulations.”
Then she gently placed Martin in my arms.
As she adjusted his blanket, she leaned toward me.
“Don’t react,” she whispered.
I froze.
“Just smile.”
My heart began racing.
“There’s something important you weren’t told about your second baby.”
Before I could respond, Judy stepped away.
Then, in a normal voice, she asked Mark whether he could stop by the nurses’ station to complete some paperwork.
Mark nodded.
The moment he left the room, Judy turned back to me.
“Your second son is safe.”
I stared at her.
