Chapter 6: The Baby With the Wrong Name
I ran upstairs.
Every step seemed to echo through the mansion.
When I reached the nursery, Elise was standing beside the changing table.
Maisie and Rosie were safe in their cribs.
But Elise was holding a small envelope and a hospital bracelet.
Her face was pale.
"What happened?""
She pointed toward the changing table.
"I found this beneath the bottom drawer.""
I took the envelope.
My name was written on it.
The handwriting belonged to Isabella.
Inside was a folded letter and a small photograph.
The photograph showed my wife sitting on a hospital bed.
She was holding a baby.
Not Maisie.
Not Rosie.
A third newborn.
I turned the photograph over.
My little Emma. Mommy will find you.
My throat tightened.
"Emma?""
Elise nodded.
"That was the name Isabella wanted for the third baby.""
I looked at the letter.
The first sentence nearly brought me to my knees.
My darling Dominic, if you are reading this, they have taken Emma from us.
I sat down.
The paper trembled in my hands.
The letter continued.
*I gave birth to three beautiful daughters. Maisie, Rosie, and Emma. I heard all three crying.
I held all three. I counted their fingers and kissed their foreheads.*
But your mother entered my room with Dr. Reed. She told me there had been a terrible mistake and that one of the babies couldn't remain with us.
I refused.
Victoria said she had already arranged everything.
I stopped reading.
My vision blurred.
Elise quietly placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Keep going, sir.""
I swallowed and continued.
They told me Emma had a medical condition. They said she needed treatment in another facility. I asked to go with her. Victoria said I wasn't medically fit to travel.
Then she showed me a document with your signature.
I stared at the page.
My signature.
There was a photocopy attached.
It was unmistakably mine.
A temporary guardianship authorization.
But I had never knowingly signed such a document.
I remembered the hospital paperwork.
My mother had placed a folder in front of me while I was crying.
She'd told me it was for the babies' medical insurance.
I'd signed without reading.
I felt sick.
Dominic, I don't believe you knew what you were signing. But if you did, please tell me. I need to know whether the man I married helped them take our daughter.
I covered my mouth.
"I didn't know," I whispered.
Elise crouched beside me.
"I believe you.""
I kept reading.
There is one more thing. The hospital bracelet they gave you for Rosie may not be Rosie's original bracelet. I saw Victoria switch the identification bands.
I looked up.
"What?""
Elise reached into her pocket and produced the bracelet she'd found.
"That's why I asked you to come upstairs. I noticed the identification number didn't match the hospital records on the dresser.""
I took the bracelet.
It read:
*BABY CARUSO — INFANT C.*
My heart pounded.
"Which baby is this supposed to belong to?""
Elise pointed toward Rosie.
"She was wearing it when I found her.""
I looked at my daughter.
Her tiny fingers were curled around the edge of her blanket.
She looked exactly like Isabella.
I approached the crib and gently lifted her.
"Rosie?""
She opened her eyes.
For a moment, I saw Isabella's face in hers.
I kissed her forehead.
"You're my daughter. All three of you are my daughters.""
Elise looked toward the nursery door.
"Mr. Caruso, there's something else.""
"What?""
"When I worked at St. Catherine's, I saw a photograph of a little girl in the pediatric ward. She was about six months old. The staff called her Emma.""
I froze.
"Where?""
"At a private facility connected to the hospital.""
"Was she sick?""
Elise nodded.
"She had a rare blood condition. The doctors were trying to identify a matching donor.""
I looked at the letter again.
Emma had been taken because of a medical condition.
But why had Victoria hidden her?
Why had she falsified the records?
And why had Isabella been locked away?
I called my mother's personal assistant.
She answered after three rings.
"Mr. Caruso?""
"Where is my mother?""
A pause.
"Mrs. Caruso left the property about twenty minutes ago.""
"Where did she go?""
"I wasn't told.""
"Find out.""
"Sir, she asked me to give you something if you ever started asking questions about the hospital.""
My heart began racing.
"What?""
"She left an envelope in her office.""
I ended the call.
"Elise, stay with the girls.""
I hurried to Victoria's private office.
The door was unlocked.
Her desk was immaculate.
A crystal vase sat beside a framed photograph of my father.
On the desk was a sealed envelope.
My name was written across it.
I opened it.
Inside was a legal document bearing the seal of a private medical foundation.
The first page listed the name of a child.
*EMMA CARUSO.*
The second page listed the child's legal guardians.
I read the names twice.
Then I felt my stomach drop.
The guardians weren't strangers.
They weren't a couple who had been waiting for a child.
They were my mother's sister and her husband.
My aunt Margaret and Uncle Richard.
The same people who had attended my wife's funeral.
The same people who had sent birthday cards to my daughters.
The same people who had told me they were praying for Isabella.
I turned to the final page.
There was a photograph attached.
A little girl with dark hair and bright eyes.
She was sitting in a wheelchair, holding a stuffed yellow duck.
Underneath the photograph was a handwritten note.
Emma's condition is worsening. We need the biological father immediately.
I grabbed my phone and called the number printed on the document.
A woman answered.
"Caruso family medical foundation. How may I help you?""
"My name is Dominic Caruso. I'm Emma's father.""
There was a long silence.
Then the woman whispered:
"Mr. Caruso, we've been trying to reach you for months.""
My heart hammered.
"Is my daughter alive?""
"Yes, sir.""
I closed my eyes.
"Where is she?""
The woman hesitated.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
"She's here at the facility. But there's a problem.""
"What problem?""
"Your mother arrived twenty minutes ago.""
I gripped the desk.
"Why?""
The woman lowered her voice.
"She's trying to authorize an emergency procedure.""
"What procedure?""
A pause.
Then:
"She's attempting to remove Emma from the donor registry.""
I stared at the photograph of my little girl.
And suddenly I understood.
May you like
My mother hadn't just stolen my daughter.
She was still trying to control whether that child lived or died.
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