Chapter 8: The Recording From the Delivery Room
The drive to the medical archive felt endless.
I sat in the back of Michael's SUV with the twins beside me.
Tyler sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window.
He hadn't spoken in nearly twenty minutes.
I couldn't blame him.
His father was alive.
His mother had apparently been involved in a decades-old affair.
His supposed half-brother was actually someone else's son.
And now another man was claiming to be the biological father of one of our daughters.
I looked at Tyler.
“Are you okay?””
He gave a bitter laugh.
“Do I look okay?””
“No.””
He turned toward me.
“Emily, I know I've hurt you. I know I don't deserve your trust. But I need you to believe that I never agreed to any of this.””
I looked down at Poppy.
“I'm trying.””
He reached toward her tiny hand.
For the first time that day, he gently touched his daughter's fingers.
Poppy wrapped her hand around his.
Tyler's eyes filled with tears.
“She's so small.””
“She has been small for three months,” I replied.
He lowered his head.
“I missed everything.””
“Yes, you did.””
He didn't argue.
When we arrived, Daniel went inside first.
The archive occupied the basement of a private medical building.
A receptionist checked our identification before calling someone upstairs.
Five minutes later, an elderly woman appeared.
“Are you Emily Carter?””
“Yes.””
She looked at the stroller.
Then she nodded.
“My name is Margaret. I was the records supervisor at the hospital where your daughters were delivered.””
My heart began racing.
“You know about the recording?””
She glanced toward Daniel.
“I know someone requested that it be destroyed.””
“Who?””
“Robert Carter.””
Tyler stepped forward.
“My father?””
Margaret nodded.
“He came here six weeks ago with a lawyer. They wanted access to the original delivery records.””
Michael frowned.
“Why didn't you report it?””
“Because he had authorization from the hospital board.””
Daniel looked at her.
“Do you still have the recording?””
Margaret hesitated.
Then she reached into her coat and produced a small storage device.
“I made a backup before the original was removed.””
I nearly cried with relief.
“Can we see it?””
She led us into a small office.
A computer sat on a metal desk.
Margaret connected the device.
The screen flickered.
Then a hospital corridor appeared.
The timestamp showed the night of my delivery.
I recognized the room immediately.
My room.
The camera angle showed the door and part of the nurses' station.
At 11:42 p.m., Linda entered.
At 11:51 p.m., Robert followed.
Then, at 12:06 a.m., a man wearing a dark jacket walked into the room.
David Bennett.
I gripped the edge of the desk.
“He was there.””
The footage continued.
David spoke to Linda.
Then Robert entered the room.
The three stood together for several minutes.
Margaret paused the recording.
“There's something you should understand. The camera didn't capture the delivery itself. But it captured the people who accessed your medical files.””
She continued playing.
Linda left first.
David followed.
Robert remained behind.
Then he walked toward the nurses' station and handed a sealed envelope to a nurse.
I stared at the screen.
“Can you zoom in?””
Margaret did.
The nurse's name badge became visible.
NURSE PATRICIA.
Daniel immediately wrote it down.
“Can you identify her?””
Margaret nodded.
“Patricia retired two years ago. But I still have her contact information.””
Michael leaned forward.
“What happened next?””
Margaret opened another file.
It contained a scanned document.
“Your daughters were initially registered under separate temporary identification numbers. One was later changed.””
I looked at her.
“Why?””
Margaret pointed to the bottom.
“An amendment was requested the morning after the delivery.””
The request was signed by Linda.
But there was something else.
A second signature.
Robert Carter.
Tyler shook his head.
“Why would my parents change the babies' records?””
Margaret looked uncomfortable.
“Because the hospital received conflicting information about the father.””
Michael stepped forward.
“What information?””
She opened a separate report.
“The original blood sample from the newborn screening was sent to a private genetics laboratory. The results were returned three weeks later.””
I felt my pulse racing.
“Who ordered the test?””
Margaret checked the document.
“Dr. Samuel Reeves.””
Daniel immediately recognized the name.
“Robert's personal physician.””
Margaret nodded.
“The report was marked confidential. But a second copy was sent to the hospital.””
She placed it on the desk.
I stared at the results.
There were three names.
Emily Carter.
Tyler Carter.
David Bennett.
And two separate genetic profiles for the twins.
Margaret pointed to a line.
“According to this report, both children had a biological relationship to the same unidentified male donor.””
Tyler frowned.
“Unidentified?””
Margaret nodded.
“Someone had submitted a sample under a false identity.””
Michael leaned closer.
“Can we identify the donor?””
Margaret turned the page.
The donor's identification number was printed in the upper corner.
Daniel typed it into his phone.
His expression changed.
“What?””
Michael asked.
Daniel looked up slowly.
“This number belongs to a medical sample registered under Robert Carter.””
Tyler shook his head.
“My father?””
Margaret nodded.
“That's what the laboratory records indicate.””
I felt the room spin.
Robert had been listed as the biological contributor.
Not Tyler.
Not David.
Robert.
But then why had the other DNA reports named different fathers?
Before anyone could answer, Margaret received a phone call.
She listened for a few seconds.
Then her face turned pale.
“What's wrong?”” I asked.
She slowly lowered the phone.
“Someone just entered the archive system remotely.””
Daniel rushed toward the computer.
“What did they access?””
Margaret pointed to the screen.
“The original delivery room recording.””
The file disappeared.
Then another notification appeared.
*REMOTE ACCESS: ROBERT CARTER.*
Tyler stepped backward.
“He's watching us.””
Daniel immediately unplugged the computer.
But it was too late.
A message appeared on the screen.
*YOU HAVE ENOUGH INFORMATION. STOP LOOKING.*
Then a second message appeared.
*OR THE NEXT RECORDING WILL BE FROM YOUR DAUGHTERS' ROOM.*
I grabbed the stroller.
“Get us out of here!””
Michael moved toward the door.
But Margaret suddenly called after us.
“Wait!””
She was holding a printed page.
“I forgot something.””
She handed it to me.
It was a handwritten note attached to the original laboratory report.
Only one sentence had been written.
*ROBERT IS NOT THE BIOLOGICAL FATHER. THE SAMPLE WAS SWITCHED.*
Below it was a name.
The person who had authorized the switch.
May you like
Dr. Samuel Reeves.
And beside his name was a hospital appointment scheduled for the following morning.
