PART 2 — THE BABY THEY BURIED WITH A LIE
My hands trembled violently as I pulled little Martin closer to my chest.
He made a tiny sound against me, completely unaware that somewhere beyond those hospital walls, his twin brother was alive.
Alive.
That single word changed everything.
For two days, I had been grieving a child who had never died.
I had cried until my ribs hurt.
I had apologized to a baby I thought I would never hold.
And Mark had sat beside me through every second of it.
He had held my hand.
He had wiped away my tears.
He had told me we needed to be grateful for the son we still had.
All while knowing exactly where my other baby had gone.
I picked up my phone again and replayed the video.
This time, I forced myself to watch every second.
Wendy handed Mark the papers.
Mark signed.
Then a woman wearing dark-blue medical scrubs stepped into view and checked something attached to the incubator.
The camera angle wasn’t good enough for me to read the paperwork, but I could see the hospital bracelet around my baby’s tiny wrist.
My son.
My stolen son.
At the end of the recording, Wendy leaned toward Mark.
“Once they’re in Chicago, this can’t come back on us.”
The video ended.
I stared at the black screen.
They’re.
Not “he.”
They’re.
My stomach turned.
What did she mean?
Before I could replay it, the door handle moved.
I nearly screamed.
I locked my phone, shoved it beneath the blanket, and looked down at Martin.
Mark walked into the room carrying two coffees.
“There are my favorite people.”
His smile nearly made me sick.
I had loved that smile for six years.
Now all I could see was the man signing away our newborn son while I lay unconscious.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
I forced myself to smile.
“I’m just tired.”
He placed the coffee beside me.
“You should sleep.”
“I probably will.”
Mark sat on the edge of the bed and gently touched Martin’s cheek.
I instinctively pulled my son closer.
Mark noticed.
For half a second, something changed in his expression.
“Hailey?”
“Sorry. I’m still nervous after everything.”
His face softened again.
“Of course.”
He kissed my forehead.
I wanted to push him away.
Instead, I closed my eyes and pretended to be exhausted.
Because one thought had become terrifyingly clear.
If Mark was capable of giving away one of our babies while I was unconscious, I couldn’t let him know I knew the truth.
Not yet.
I needed evidence.
I needed Judy.
Most importantly, I needed to find my son before Mark and Wendy realized their secret had been exposed.
Mark’s phone suddenly buzzed.
He glanced at the screen.
Then he stood.
“I need to take this.”
“Work?”
“Yeah.”
Another lie.
He walked into the hallway.
I waited five seconds before reaching for my phone.
I texted the unlisted number.
ARE YOU JUDY?
The reply came almost immediately.
YES.
My fingers shook.
MY BABY IS ALIVE?
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally:
YES.
I covered my mouth.
Tears filled my eyes.
WHERE IS HE?
Her response made my blood run cold.
I DON’T KNOW ANYMORE.
Before I could type another question, another message arrived.
THEY MOVED HIM EARLY THIS MORNING.
WHO?
I typed.
No response.
JUDY?
Nothing.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I hesitated before answering.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Vance?”
It was Judy.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yes.”
“Listen carefully. I can’t stay on this call.”
“Where is my son?”
“I tried to stop the transfer.”
“What transfer?”
“Your husband signed documents identifying the baby as voluntarily surrendered.”
“I never signed anything.”
“I know.”
“Then how could they take him?”
There was silence.
“Judy?”
“Because there’s a signature on the paperwork that supposedly belongs to you.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“It’s forged.”
My eyes moved toward the hospital door.
Mark was still outside.
“Can you prove that?”
“I photographed some of the documents before they disappeared from the system.”
“Send them to me.”
“I already did.”
My phone vibrated.
Three images arrived.
The first showed a surrender document.
The second showed a transfer authorization.
The third showed a signature.
My name.
Hailey Vance.
But I hadn’t written it.
“Judy, why are you helping me?”
Her breathing changed.
“Because this isn’t the first time.”
A chill crawled over my skin.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean your mother-in-law has been here before.”
My heart began pounding.
“For what?”
“Mrs. Vance, I shouldn’t be telling you this over the phone.”
“She stole my baby. Tell me everything.”
Judy went silent.
Then she whispered, “Seven years ago, another woman delivered here under almost identical circumstances.”
“What circumstances?”
“Emergency delivery. Heavy sedation. Newborn transferred while the mother was unconscious.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What does that have to do with Wendy?”
“She arranged that transfer too.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Who was the mother?”
“I don’t know. The old file is restricted.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because my sister was the nurse who reported it.”
“What happened?”
“She lost her job.”
The hospital room suddenly felt much smaller.
“Judy…”
“Hailey, you need to understand something. Wendy isn’t improvising. She knows exactly how this works.”
A shadow moved underneath the door.
Mark.
“He’s coming back.”
“Then hang up.”
“Wait. Where did they take my baby?”
“I only saw part of the destination code before the record vanished. It wasn’t a Chicago hospital.”
“But Wendy said Chicago in the video.”
“I know.”
“Then where?”
“I think Chicago was a cover.”
The door handle moved.
“Judy!”
“I’ll find out what I can.”
The call ended.
I shoved the phone beneath my blanket seconds before Mark entered.
He stared at me.
Not casually.
Not lovingly.
He was studying me.
“Who were you talking to?”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“My sister.”
“Your sister?”
“She wanted to know when we’re coming home.”
Mark didn’t answer immediately.
Then he smiled.
“Tell her tomorrow, hopefully.”
He walked toward the bed.
I tried not to move.
He picked up my phone from beside my hip.
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“What are you doing?”
“Plugging it in. Your battery’s almost dead.”
He connected it to the charger.
“Thanks.”
His eyes remained on mine.
Then he said something that terrified me more than anything else.
“You know, Hailey, you’ve always been a terrible liar.”
My throat went dry.
“What?”
He laughed.
“I’m joking.”
But his eyes didn’t laugh.
He sat beside me again.
For the next twenty minutes, neither of us said much.
Eventually, a doctor came in to discuss my discharge.
If my bloodwork remained stable, I could leave the next afternoon.
Mark looked relieved.
I wasn’t.
Going home meant leaving the one place where Judy could reach me easily.
It also meant being alone with Mark.
When the doctor left, Mark stretched and said, “Mom wants to come over tomorrow after we get home.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
His eyebrows lifted.
“I mean… I don’t think I’m ready for visitors.”
“She’s Martin’s grandmother.”
“I’m recovering from surgery.”
“Of course.”
He smiled again.
“I’ll tell her.”
But ten minutes later, while he was in the bathroom, his phone lit up on the chair beside me.
WENDY.
The message preview was visible.
DID SHE SEE ANYTHING?
My blood turned cold.
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
MARK, ANSWER ME.
Then:
JUDY WAS ON SHIFT THIS MORNING.
They knew.
Maybe not everything.
But Wendy knew Judy was dangerous to them.
The bathroom water stopped running.
I quickly looked away.
Mark returned and picked up his phone.
His face changed when he read the messages.
“I’m going downstairs for a minute.”
“Again?”
“Forgot something in the car.”
He kissed my forehead.
The second he left, I called Judy.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
I texted:
THEY KNOW ABOUT YOU.
Nothing.
Five minutes passed.
Ten.
Twenty.
Then someone knocked.
I expected Mark.
Instead, a woman I’d never seen before stepped inside.
She looked about fifty, dressed in a gray business suit, carrying a leather folder.
“Mrs. Vance?”
“Yes?”
She quietly closed the door behind her.
“My name is Rebecca Shaw. I’m an attorney.”
“I didn’t call an attorney.”
“No.”
She looked toward Martin.
“Judy did.”
My heart jumped.
“Where is she?”
“She was escorted out of the hospital fifteen minutes ago.”
“What?”
“Administration placed her on immediate suspension.”
I felt sick.
“Because of me?”
“Because someone accused her of illegally accessing confidential patient records.”
“Wendy.”
Rebecca didn’t respond directly.
Instead, she opened the folder.
“Judy contacted me because she believed something might happen before she could get this to you.”
She removed a flash drive.
“What’s on that?”
“Copies of everything she could recover.”
“About my son?”
“About your son… and several other children.”
My stomach dropped.
“Several?”
Rebecca nodded.
“Your situation may be part of something much larger.”
I looked at Martin sleeping against me.
“Can you get my baby back?”
“If the documents were forged and the transfer was illegal, we’re going to try.”
“Try?”
“The problem is we don’t currently know where the baby is.”
I felt tears burning my eyes.
“Then find him.”
“We will.”
Rebecca hesitated.
“But there’s something else you need to know before your husband returns.”
She pulled a document from the folder.
At the top was my name.
Below it was a medical authorization dated three months earlier.
“What is this?”
“Look at the procedure.”
I read it.
My hands began shaking.
“This doesn’t make sense.”
Rebecca pointed to another line.
Authorized representative:
MARK VANCE.
“What procedure?”
I whispered.
Rebecca looked directly into my eyes.
“An amendment to your delivery contingency plan.”
“I never made a contingency plan.”
“According to these records, you did.”
She turned the page.
There were instructions regarding emergency guardianship.
Transfer authorization.
Temporary medical custody.
And beneath them…
My forged signature.
Again.
“This was planned three months ago?”
“It appears so.”
A horrifying realization settled over me.
The emergency hadn’t created an opportunity for Mark and Wendy.
They had prepared for it.
“Rebecca…”
My voice barely worked.
“Was what happened to me during labor really an accident?”
Her expression changed.
“I can’t answer that yet.”
Before I could speak again, footsteps approached.
Rebecca quickly put the papers away.
The door opened.
Mark walked in.
He stopped immediately when he saw her.
For the first time since I woke from surgery, I watched genuine fear cross my husband’s face.
“Who are you?”
Rebecca stood calmly.
“Rebecca Shaw.”
Mark’s face went pale.
He knew the name.
I saw it immediately.
Rebecca saw it too.
“Interesting,” she said. “I didn’t expect you to recognize me.”
“I don’t.”
“You just did.”
Mark looked at me.
“Hailey, what’s going on?”
I forced my voice to remain steady.
“She was just leaving.”
Rebecca looked at me for a long second, understanding exactly what I was doing.
“Yes,” she said. “For now.”
She walked past Mark.
He watched her disappear down the hallway.
Then he closed the door.
Locked it.
Click.
I looked at the lock.
Then at him.
“Why did you lock the door?”
Mark slowly turned around.
His expression was completely different now.
The grieving husband was gone.
“Hailey,” he said quietly, “give me your phone.”
“What?”
“Your phone.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
I pulled Martin against my chest.
“Harder than what?”
Mark took one step toward me.
Then another.
And suddenly, my phone vibrated beneath the blanket.
A message from Judy.
Mark heard it.
His eyes dropped toward my lap.
Neither of us moved.
Then he lunged for the phone.
I twisted away, shielding Martin with one arm while grabbing the device with the other.
“STOP!”
Mark froze when I screamed.
The hallway outside immediately became noisy.
A nurse called through the door.
“Mrs. Vance? Is everything okay?”
Mark looked toward the door.
I looked at my phone.
Judy’s message was still visible.
Only seven words.
Seven words that changed the entire nightmare again.
I FOUND WHERE THEY TOOK YOUR SON.
My breath caught.
A second message arrived.
And when I read the location, I realized why Wendy had lied about Chicago.
My baby hadn’t been taken across the country.
He was less than thirty miles away.
And according to Judy’s final message…
He wasn’t at an adoption agency at all.
He was inside a private maternity residence owned by Wendy Vance.
