Parents Secretly Exchange Their Ill Baby for a Healthy One in Hospital, She Shows up on Their Doorstep 18 Years Later – Story of the Day

After years of fertility struggles, Darren and Daphne welcomed their baby girl only to realize something horrible. In the heat of the moment, they exchanged her for another baby and didn't look back. But when their biological daughter found them, they weren't living happily ever after.

"Let's go see our baby girl," Darren lifted his wife, Daphne, from the hospital bed. It had been a grueling 48 hours of labor, which ended in a C-section at the doctor's recommendation. But finally, their daughter had arrived safely. They named her Scarlett after Daphne's favorite movie.

He carefully placed his wife in the wheelchair and started toward the newborn ward. They barely had time to hold the baby after she was born because Daphne passed out after kissing her forehead. The nurses had taken their daughter away for exams, and Darren was focused on his wife's recovery.

"Oh, look at all those babies," Daphne gushed and tried to crane her neck to see what she considered the greatest place in the world: a room full of beautiful newborns. "Where's our girl?"

"I don't know," Darren said, smiling as his eyes squinted to see the labels on each of those cots. "Those letters are way too small."

"Can you ask if we can go inside?" his wife suggested.

"Sure," he nodded and flagged down a nurse. She guided them towards their daughter's cot.

"You can't stay here too long, but I'll give you a few minutes," Nurse Markson whispered conspiratorially.

"Thank you," Daphne whispered back, quietly exhilarated. "Hey, baby girl. I'm your momma."

"Hey, baby," Darren added. "I'm your papa. We're so excited that you're finally here."

Daphne's next breath was hoarse as the emotions rose to the surface. "It was all worth it, Scarlett. You're a miracle. Our rainbow baby," the new mom expressed with all the love she could muster in a public place.

Darren was nodding. One hand held Daphne's shoulder tightly, but the other reached for the hospital bassinet. "She's so tiny," he commented, feeling his own voice get thick.

They remembered the last few years and the intense journey to bring this girl to the world. After trying for two years naturally, they went to a doctor and started fertility treatments. The hormones drove Daphne insane, and the injections were so painful they left bruises on her skin.

But nothing could've prepared them for the horror of losing their babies. Their first pregnancy didn't reach the three-month mark. Their second was even shorter, but their third made it to six months, and they were sure that was it.

Their families had already thrown them a gender reveal and a baby shower when Daphne started bleeding. Holding their lifeless boy had broken them for a long time. Darren wanted them to quit and explore other options.

But when they least expected, Daphne was pregnant again, and they didn't tell anyone this time. They kept it a secret for nine long months. No one in their family knew they were at the hospital. They were going to get the surprise of a lifetime.

"She's so perfect," Daphne whispered again as her hands delicately touched Scarlett's little toes. Something in that touch made Darren frown.

"Does her skin look a little yellow?" he asked, curious.

"Oh, well. Maybe," she mumbled. "But that must be normal for babies."

His eyes traveled to other children in the ward. Most of the Caucasian babies had perfectly rosy skin, but Scarlett looked strange.

"Oh, God, no," Darren uttered.

"What?" Daphne asked, her voice remaining low.

"I saw this on a show. She has jaundice. That means there's something wrong with her liver."

"Let's call the nurse now!"

"No, wait," Darren tightened his grip on her shoulder. "We can't."

"Why? If she is sick, she needs a doctor now," Daphne said, starting to get angry.

"Look at her breathing," he said as his eyes widened in horror. "It's short and quick. Something is wrong."

"Nurse Mark—"

"Shut up!" Darren wrapped his hands against her mouth and acted quickly. He lifted the baby from her cot and looked around.

"What are you doing? Put her down. She's fragile," Daphne demanded, maintaining her low tone.

"I know she is. That's the point." His tone was also low, but his face was manic. "We don't deserve this, not after everything. All we've lost already. It's not fair."

"What?" she asked, still confused, until her husband placed their baby on another cot, exchanged their ankle bracelets, and brought a new baby to their cot. "Have you lost your mind?!"

"Shush!" Darren snapped. "You'll wake the babies and get something here. This is what's best. We lost four babies, Daphne! FOUR! I can't do this anymore. That baby is sick. This one isn't. This is Scarlett, now."

"But she's ours, Darren. How could we just give her away?" his wife said.

"Do you want to lose another baby? Are you ready for that? To love her more than all the others and lose her AGAIN! I'm not willing to do that," he spat, his voice no longer so quiet. "I can't. This will be fine. No one saw it."

"But," Daphne shook his head and tried to stand from her wheelchair. "We can't do this."

"It's done," Darren said into her ear.

"Okay, guys," Nurse Markson said, waltzing back into the room. "Your time is up. We'll soon roll her to your room, though."

"Thank you so much," Darren expressed, changing his manic expression to a polite smile.

Daphne was mute as her husband wheeled her away. Her eyes landed on the new cot where their Scarlett lay, breathing rapidly and still sporting that yellow hue. She left her daughter behind, along with the sound of beeping monitors and distant murmurs of medical staff, as the weight of this terrible decision hung heavy in the air.

The ride home felt surreal for Daphne. She clutched the car seat, her fingers tracing the contours of the baby's face, the new Scarlett, with a mix of awe and lingering guilt. Darren drove, his eyes fixed on the road, a determined set to his jaw, trying to maintain a facade of normalcy despite the storm brewing inside.

"It's going to be okay, Daphne," Darren asserted, glancing at her with firm conviction. "We made the best choice we could."

We? She thought but remained silent, staring out the window. The weight of their decision sat heavily upon her chest, suffocating her with every passing mile.

The faint scent of vanilla from the nearby diffuser hit their noses as they entered the room. Yet, beneath the comforting scents, an unspoken tension hung in the air. Darren placed the car seat on the living room table, his demeanor a mix of determination and concern for his wife's lingering distress.

"Daphne, please," Darren began again, his voice more insistent. "We can't keep dwelling on this. We did what we had to do."

"You keep saying 'we.' Who's 'we?'" Daphne asked. She didn't have the energy to be snippy. Her feelings were too raw for anything but sorrow as she avoided his gaze.

As they settled into a tentative silence, a pungent smell interrupted the tension—a telltale sign of a dirty diaper.

"Looks like someone needs changing," Darren said cheerily. The prospect of changing their daughter's first diaper should've been exciting, even if it was a little disgusting.

But Daphne didn't smile. She nodded and moved to unfasten Scarlett from the car seat, her hands shaking slightly.

As they began changing the diaper, a folded paper nestled beneath the baby's blanket caught Darren's eye.

"What's this?" His voice held an edge of confusion as he unfolded the note, his eyes scanning its contents.

Engrossed in the diaper change, Daphne glanced over, noticing Darren's sudden shift in demeanor. "What is it?"

"It's from Nurse Markson," Darren uttered anxiously.

"What does it say?" Daphne asked uneasily.

"She saw us," he breathed out, his voice more forceful. "She wants money."

"Blackmail? Are you serious?" his wife asked, horrified. She wanted to snatch the letter and tear it into pieces, but she was still elbow-deep in baby poop. After finishing, Daphne went to her husband's side and read.

"We have to pay up," he said, defeated.

"No, we don't," Daphne shook her head. "We'll move. Disappear."

"What?" Darren asked, surprised by the suggestion, especially after her solemn attitude all the home from the hospital.

"You heard me," she insisted. "Come on. Let's pack. We'll start at my parents in Florida."

"Daph, we'd be traveling with a newborn. She could get sick," he said carefully.

"We'll be careful. We'll drive all day and wear face masks in public. Let's go," his wife commanded, and Darren moved.

An hour later, they had everything necessary in their car, but Daphne touched his arm before Darren could put it in drive and take off. "When we get… wherever we're going, I want us to change her name," she said, swallowing.

"You've loved the name Scarlett forever. It was your dream," he shook his head.

"I know. But she's not Scarlett. I can only move on from this by changing her name. She's our new daughter," Daphne said, eyeing him poignantly.

"Okay. That sounds good," Darren nodded and started the car. "On the plus side, we have a long road ahead. Let's think of baby names."

***

Eighteen years later…

Dr. Rodriguez's office was a sterile haven, the faint smell of antiseptic wafting through the air as Beatriz and her parents sat in uneasy anticipation. The doctor sat opposite them, her expression a delicate balance between professionalism and empathy.

"Beatriz, Mr. and Mrs. Alvarez," Dr. Rodriguez began her voice calm yet carrying the weight of the revelation about to unfold. "The DNA tests we conducted have brought forward some unexpected results."

Beatriz exchanged a bewildered glance with her parents, a knot of apprehension forming in her stomach.

"Your bloodwork confirms a diagnosis of Wilson Disease," the doctor continued, choosing her words carefully. "It's a genetic disorder that affects copper metabolism. However, neither of your parents are carriers for this condition."

Confusion etched itself across Beatriz's face, her mind racing to comprehend the implications of the doctor's words.

"I don't understand," Beatriz spoke, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and disbelief. "How can I have a genetic disease if my parents don't?"

The air grew heavy with unanswered questions.

"Beatriz," Dr. Rodriguez began gently, "sometimes, genetic anomalies occur spontaneously. It's rare, but it does happen. In your case, it appears that this might be the situation."

Lucinda clasped her daughter's hand. "But what does this mean for Beatriz's health?"

"The good news is that with proper treatment and management, individuals with Wilson Disease can lead relatively normal lives," the doctor reassured them.

"But why didn't we know about this before?" Alberto interjected, frustrated. "Shouldn't this have been detected earlier?"

Dr. Rodriguez paused for a moment, choosing her words with care. "Sometimes, the symptoms can be subtle or mistaken for other conditions," the doctor paused. "But there's another possibility."

Beatriz's quick mind raced, understanding the doctor's implication before she could say anything else.

"I... I'm not their bio daughter, am I?" Beatriz whispered, her voice quivering.

The room fell silent, the weight of the truth hanging heavily in the air. Beatriz looked to her parents, seeking confirmation or denial in their eyes, but all she found was a reflection of her disbelief and confusion.

Dr. Rodriguez spoke softly, breaking the heavy silence. "I know this is a lot to take in. We can offer counseling and support to help navigate this situation."

"But doctor, this is impossible. We were there when Beatriz was born. We brought her home from the hospital," Alberto's voice quivered with a mix of anguish and confusion. "There's no way she's not our daughter."

The doctor hesitated, measuring her words. "I understand your certainty, Alberto, but sometimes—"

"Wait," Lucinda interjected, her voice wavering. "I saw something on a show."

"Amor, now it's not the time for your telenovelas," Alberto rolled his eyes.

"No, listen to me. Someone at the newborn ward on the show changed babies. At first, everyone thought it was an accident, but then they discovered it was an evil plan from Fernando. He wanted to take—"

"Mom," Beatriz interrupted her, smiling slightly.

"That's impossible. All that security, the wristbands," Alberto shook his head, but all looked at Dr. Rodriguez.

"You think it could've happened, Doctor?" the young woman wondered.

The physician shook her head. "Look, I'm not saying anything, but it's not entirely uncommon. It could've been entirely accidental," she suggested, but the twist in her mouth said she wasn't sure of her own words.

Alberto shook his head again. "No, no way. This is too much."

Meanwhile, Beatriz's mind whirled, processing the idea. "Should we try to find out?"

"I don't know if you can. Hospitals will do anything to cover their tracks. Exchanging two babies could result in an expensive lawsuit," Dr. Rodriguez commented.

Beatriz bit her lip. She had her ways.

***

The doctor didn't know that Beatriz could do anything, especially regarding technology, but it helped that one of her best friend's mom was a nurse who decided to help with one tiny password.

After that, Beatriz was one of her own, but she sat in front of her screen on a quiet night, fingers dancing across the keyboard with swift precision. Her eyes were fixed on the monitor, and she didn't hesitate to do what she had to, but it needed to be quick. The screen flickered with hospital records, but a quick search revealed the necessary data. She downloaded it and closed down everything.

No one would know a thing. Beatriz's love for computers was more than just a hobby; it was a gateway to unraveling mysteries and decoding complex puzzles that others often overlooked. Her talent and academic efforts had already earned her a scholarship to one of the best universities in the country.

However, a spell of fatigue and jaundice had brought her to the hospital, where her surprising diagnosis had made Dr. Rodriguez dig deeper into her genetics. Her family wouldn't have discovered the truth otherwise. They never even suspected anything wrong.

Her parents had been fantastic her entire life, so Beatriz wasn't invested in this search to find her parents. She just couldn't walk away from an intrigue. Knowing what had happened and why was her only thought; the data should be more than enough.

According to records, Beatriz was taken home two days after she was born, which, luckily, helped with her search. She had other baby names as well as their parents, too. The baby boys were discounted right away, but there were still a lot of baby girls to go through. Therefore, it was time to do some grunt work: search Facebook.

Most of the couples appeared, and she successfully crossed out any that didn't match her race. Hours later, she only had two couples left with their baby girls. One family was prominent on social media. They posted constant pictures and had several more kids afterward.

"They look so alike," Beatriz muttered, looking at a photo of the woman with her daughter. Their resemblance was uncanny, so she crossed them, too. All that was left was one couple. However, they presented a big problem.

Only the woman, Daphne, was on social media; all she posted about was her garden. Her profile picture was just her. The man, Darren, didn't have an online presence at all. Beatriz had no idea if they were still together.

But the young woman downloaded the one image of the stranger and printed it. She walked to the mirror, stared deeply into herself, and intermittently looked at the photograph.

Her mother was making coffee in the morning when Beatriz approached her carefully. She told the woman who had raised about her night and finally produced the photograph.

Lucinda's eyes watered immediately. "Dear God," she mumbled, covering her mouth as she began to weep.

"You think she looks like me?" Beatriz asked, squinting at the photo. "I'm not sure I see it."

"It's you, sweetheart," her mom nodded tearily. "Older, of course, but it's you."

"What's going on?" Alberto asked, yawning.

"Dad, I've been up all night," Beatriz shrugged and turned the photo.

"Jesus," he said and looked away.

She could tell that he was in pain, too. "Guys, no one in the world has better parents. But I want to know what happened," Beatriz began tactfully. "These people may have been blindsided too."

"You found her Facebook, but do you know where she lives?" Alberto wondered gruffly.

"I know already, Dad," Beatriz shrugged.

"My genius," he said, proud but resigned.

"But did you see a girl in those pictures?" her mother asked. "If our babies were switched…"

"Exactly, Mom," Beatriz touched Lucinda's shoulder. "But I didn't see anything. I know her husband is a man named Darren. But he doesn't appear in pictures either. I don't know much except that she lives in Florida and likes gardening."

Alberto whistled. "Florida is a long way from Texas."

"She's in Destin, so it's around 20 hours," Beatriz added but bit her lip. "Would you go with me to meet her? Or them?"

"Of course, we'll go," Lucinda responded immediately.

"Honey," her husband said, unsure.

"We have to find out what happened to our bio baby, Alberto," she put her hands on her waist, "to know she's safe and that they did just as good a job as we did. It doesn't change anything. Beatriz is our kid. But we have to know."

He saw the wisdom of words. "Let me just get the car checked up."

"I'll pack our stuff," Lucinda said.

"Thank you, guys," Beatriz stated slowly to avoid choking up. "It doesn't change anything for me. I just need to know what happened."

***

They were on the road only an hour later, but the 20 hours to Destin passed surprisingly rapidly. Beatriz wondered what she would say, how to break the news to the unsuspecting woman. It would be shocking, but hopefully, they would want to find answers, too.

She would ask about the disease and bid them a good life once she had the correct answers. That's all I want, Beatriz thought.

"We're here, baby," her father said, distracting her from her thoughts.

"Okay, no sense in waiting. Let's go," Beatriz nodded, clicking off her seat belt. Her parents stayed put for a second, so she looked at them curiously.

"Don't you want to go on your own first?" Lucinda asked.

"No! I want you with me," she countered. They both grinned.

"Let's go then," Alberto shut off the engine.

They walked slowly up the porch and rang the doorbell. The woman in the picture answered, her eyebrows slightly raised until her eyes landed on Beatriz. Her face wrinkled immediately, and a sob erupted from her deep within her chest.

Her hands covered her mouth as the tears fell. "Oh, my Scarlett," she said between wails. It was heartbreaking, which only made things more awkward because Beatriz and her parents didn't know how to act.

"Hmmm," the young woman began. "I take it you know who we are?"

"It's hard not to recognize you," the crying woman nodded.

"So, you know what happened?" Beatriz continued apprehensively.

"Oh, yes."

"I'm Lucinda, and this is my husband, Alberto," Beatriz's mom interjected gently. "It's nice to meet you…"

"Daphne," Beatriz responded. "Well, Mrs. Davis."

"It's okay. You can call me Daphne," the woman countered, dabbing some of her tears. "Please come in."

Her house was surprising. It was clean and smelled wonderful but oddly empty of life. Only pictures of flowers hung on the walls. There were no pictures of her family, much less the baby they must have raised. But Daphne seemed warm and friendly.

She offered them tea and cookies, and they all sat awkwardly for a few minutes as if no one knew what to say.

"So, hmm. Can we start at the beginning?" Beatriz cleared her throat. "I can tell you how we discovered this, and you can tell us how you did."

Daphne looked at her window curtains for a second too long. "I didn't discover this, beautiful girl," she answered after turning her head slowly to Beatriz. "I knew all along."

Beatriz's parents stared at each other. "What does that mean?"

"It's a long story," Daphne sighed. "But we did it."

"Did what?" Beatriz demanded.

"We switched the babies," she confirmed.

"Why?" the Alvarez family asked in unison.

"Because my late husband was an idiot, and I was a weakling," Daphne responded, her eyes on the floor. "I can give you a million excuses about our pain and our lives. But there was no excuse for what we did…if it's any consolation, we paid for it dearly."

"I'm so confused," Beatriz whispered. Her mother noted the hurt in her voice and grabbed her hand.

Daphne took another deep breath. "My husband and I lost four babies before our daughter finally arrived in the world. It was years of infertility and blood and sweat and tears, but she was finally here, and it was a miracle," she started, "until we visited her in the newborn ward."

Beatriz frowned. "I looked sick," she deduced.

"Yeah," Daphne confirmed. "You were yellow. Your breathing was shallow, and I wanted to call a doctor and ask, but Darren… diegrabbed you and changed you. It was all quick. I told him it was wrong. I told him to stop. But he talked about our past and that we didn't deserve to lose another baby."

"But I'm here. I'm alive and well," Beatriz interjected, offended. "My disease has only started acting up now."

"Disease?"

"Oh, right. You didn't even wait at the time to hear what I had," the young woman scoffed. "I have Wilson Disease. It's totally manageable. But it's genetic, and my parents got tested. They're not even carriers, so here we are."

"I see," Daphne looked like she ate rather sour lemon. "I'm glad you're good. Healthy."

Another awkward silence filled the room. But Lucinda broke it. "You said you paid for what you did."

"Oh, yes. We paid for it," Daphne nodded. "When we brought our baby home — your baby, I guess — a nurse wanted to blackmail us because she saw everything."

The Alvarez family was once again shocked.

"We took off. We left Texas, stayed in my parents' home in Orlando, and settled here after a while," Daphne explained. "We had originally named our daughter Scarlett, but when I made peace with the switch, I decided to change her name to Georgia. And we had a wonderful six years."

"Six?" Lucinda choked.

"Yes, I'm afraid," Daphne nodded. Her voice was no longer the warm and friendly one she had greeted them with. She was cold, numb… an empty vessel. "Darren was right outside this house with Georgia. He was teaching her baseball. Our daughter fell and tripped. And that was it."

"Oh, God," Lucinda grabbed the cross in her necklace.

"It was so quick," Daphne muttered. "I knew it was karma. For everything we had done."

"We're very sorry for your loss," Beatriz said, feeling awful. She wrapped her arm around her mom and touched her dad's shoulder.

They were confused and hurt, too. Their biological daughter was gone, too.

"It's technically your loss, too," Daphne nodded solemnly at Alberto and Lucinda. "And I'm sorry I couldn't protect your daughter when I so blatantly took her."

"Beatriz is our daughter," Alberto said gruffly. "We can't change the past. Perhaps, we shouldn't have come here."

Daphne's eyes were still downcast. "Perhaps. But I'm glad to see that Scar—sorry, Beatriz is doing well."

"That was my name? Scarlett," Beatriz wrinkled her nose. "I think Beatriz suits me better."

The tension lifted a tad as Daphne grinned, but the humor didn't reach her eyes.

"We should probably go," Lucinda suggested. "We've had a long drive."

"How long will you be in Destin?" Daphne asked, rising from her armchair with them.

"I don't know. A couple of days, maybe," Alberto nodded as they all walked to the front door.

"Wait, your husband," Beatriz stopped. "What happened to him?"

"He's dead," Daphne responded tartly.

"Yes, you said that before, but how? Natural causes?"

"You can say that."

"I don't understand—"

"Beatriz," her mother warned through gritted teeth.

"Right. I'm sorry," Beatriz apologized. "But is there any chance I can come by again? Just before we leave."

"Of course, you will always be welcome here," Daphne nodded, her eyes gaining a bit of emotion for just a second. "Your parents, too."

"Thank you," Lucinda and Alberto said, walking to the car.

Beatriz hesitated momentarily before hugging Daphne and rushing to her parents' side. She turned to stare out the rear window as Daphne remained still on her front door, watching with a soulless expression. It gave the young woman shivers, but she didn't understand why.

***

"I'll back be in just a few hours," Beatriz assured her parents after dropping them off at a popular aquarium.

They hadn't been so keen on their daughter visiting Daphne alone. Alberto had had time to think and considered her a kidnapper. Lucinda had more compassion for the sad woman but wasn't so excited about Beatriz going alone to her house.

"It's been so long, and you've brought us so much happiness that I can't hate her for the switch, but I don't know," Lucinda said, concerned.

"Mom, I'm an adult," Beatriz countered. "She's a broken woman, and her story is so sad. I just want to see her one last time before going back home. I am not interested in seeing her after that, and I think she feels the same way."

Lucinda was convinced. Alberto huffed and puffed but let her go.

"Hello?" Beatriz yelled after ringing Daphne's doorbell and knocking but getting no answer.

"Oh, Scar-Beatriz," came a bellow from the left. "I lost track of time. Come garden with me."

The young woman jumped from the porch and joined Daphne, who was rocking gardening gloves and had some dirt on her cheeks.

Daphne opened the back fence, and Beatriz smiled shyly. "Oh, you really like gardening."

"I love it. It saved me after everything," her bio mother responded with a tentative grin.

Beatriz could only nod. Daphne guided her toward a pair of extra gloves and a pair of boots, which were too big, but Beatriz put them on. Then, they got to work, weeding the garden and planting new things.

"Can I ask about your life?" Daphne broke the silence.

"Sure," Beatriz responded, glad for some conversation. "Ask me anything."

"Hmmm. How's school?"

"School is awesome," Beatriz bragged. "I'm good at so much stuff. I got into MIT. Computers are my thing."

"MIT? Wow."

"I've won math and chess competitions since I was six," the young woman continued, feeling proud of her achievements. "Technology is just my passion."

"And what do you want to be?"

"I'm not sure," Beatriz said. She stopped talking to pull on a particularly stubborn weed.

"Well, you have all the time in the world to decide," Daphne commented. "Who knows what will happen in the next four years? A lot can change. Be open to new challenges."

"That's what my dad says," Beatriz laughed but stopped abruptly as Daphne's mouth twisted. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. It's not about you," Daphne shook her head, wiping her hands for a second. "Please, don't take this wrong, but I don't see you as my daughter."

"No?"

"No, Georgia was my daughter," the weary woman continued. "I had to change my mentality when we ran away from the nurse's threats. So, talk about your parents freely. I made a face because it made me wonder about my girl, what she would've become, what wisdom her father would've given her."

"I feel the same way," Beatriz expressed. "I only wanted to meet you to put a rest on this puzzle. I don't know if I'll ever see you again."

Daphne stared at her silently for a couple of seconds before nodding. "I understand. Let's keep going. What was your childhood like? Tell me your favorite stuff. Anything you want."

"Oh, well," Beatriz said and dove into a long, detailed conversation about her likes and dislikes and everything in between. Daphne chimed in with a few things about Georgia and what she liked as a child, but there was little to tell. She died so young.

"Did you ever think about coming to find me?" Beatriz wondered after a while.

"I didn't," Daphne revealed. "As I said, you weren't my daughter anymore. But Darren…"

"Really? When he's the one who changed me?"

"Yeah, ironic," she sighed. "But Darren was always thinking about himself. When Georgia died, he was in a lot of pain. He was depressed for a while. I cried when we buried her, but I didn't shed another tear until you showed up."

Beatriz's eyebrows lifted, but she remained quiet.

"Anyway, around three years after Georgia's death, he decided to start looking. At first, he wanted to call the hospital. I reminded him of the nurse who could still blackmail us." Daphne lifted one corner of her mouth. "So, he said he would stop. But then, I saw him searching for private investigators."

Daphne stopped talking and touched one of her flowers.

"I asked him to stop. We had already taken a daughter away from another couple," she continued. "He didn't want to stop. Again, he was selfish. We could've adopted. We were still young. But he became obsessed."

"That's terrible, but I can't imagine what it's like to lose a child," Beatriz mumbled when her bio mother became quiet again.

"It's the worst pain in the world, even the early miscarriages. I never forgot those. I would lay in bed, wondering who they would've become," she responded. "But losing a girl we had raised for six years is a million times worse. I didn't have anyone to blame. We both saw her tripping."

Beatriz nodded. "So, you started gardening and got better. How did he die? Obviously, he never found me. I don't think."

Daphne ignored her question. "These are my favorite flowers. Well, these shrubs are some of the easiest to maintain. Their flowers are beautiful, and they like almost any weather."

The young woman touched the plants. "They're pretty in an understated way. I don't know much about plants, though."

"My husband didn't know either," Daphne commented. "He didn't care when I started gardening. That makes sense. He barely heard what I had to say unless I was getting him out of trouble."

Beatriz frowned at the direction of the conversation.

"But that ignorance presented a new opportunity. Darren had already called two private investigators, who said finding you was easy enough," her bio mother continued. "I didn't want that. I had to stop Darren."

Daphne took her eyes away from the dirt and stared straight into Beatriz's. The expression of the soulless was back in plain sight, and the young woman recoiled slightly. It was pure instinct as her spine went on high alert.

"How did you stop him?" Beatriz whispered.

Daphne looked away and touched the plant.

"This is an oleander plant, also called Nerium. It's used so often, and almost no one knows what it can do. I don't always wear gloves when I tend to my yard, but you should always use them near these plants," Daphne said.

No. No. She didn't, Beatriz prayed as her eyes bulged. "Are you saying…"

Daphne only looked back, not speaking. "His mindless pursuit for the daughter he had traded was too much. He wouldn't listen, so…" she shrugged. "It had to be done. After all these years of marriage. He never even questioned the new tea I gave him."

NO! Beatriz fell back to her butt and crawled backward away from Daphne. Her breathing matched her speeding heart, and she couldn't contain the accusation in her expression.

Daphne was utterly unmoved and unsurprised by the young woman's reaction. She was still touching the plant as if petting an animal.

"Why?" Beatriz questioned, but her voice was a mere breath. "Why not let him find me? I was a smart child. Nothing would've changed."

"He gave you up," Daphne uttered, still expressionless. "We had been punished enough. If he continued, you would've been dead. I had to save you, too. Even I never got to meet you."

"You're crazy!"

"It was swift," Daphne continued. "It was a strong tea. It gave him a heart attack."

Beatriz crawled back further but couldn't seem to get up and run. "You could've divorced him or something."

"No, that wasn't enough," her bio mother shook her head.

"Why aren't you in jail?!"

Daphne's head moved side to side, back and forth, like a toy in a horror movie. "No one ever found out," she responded and moved her hand to the dirt, patting it lightly.

Finally, Beatriz's body listened. She jumped, screaming, and ran. "Goodbye, Scarlett," she heard as she jumped the fence.

***

"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" Beatriz yelled at her parents, who were spending their sweet time loading the car trunk with souvenirs from the aquarium.

"Why are you so agitated?" Alberto asked, frowning.

"Come on, Dad! I want to go home now!" she demanded.

"Now? It's late, and I'm tired. Our things are still at the hotel," Lucinda said, concerned.

"I have them. Get in!" Beatriz insisted, and her parents finally followed. But she was driving them home.

"What happened?" Alberto questioned.

Beatriz swallowed, pushing the pedal to pick up speed. "Don't ask. We're getting far away from Destin and never coming back."

"What did she do?" her mother asked.

"Nothing," the young woman answered.

Her parents looked at each other.

"Fine. I'll tell you when we get home."

She kept her promise, and Alberto rushed to call the police. No one was arrested. Daphne was dead by the time cops showed up at her house. An investigation was launched, and they found her deceased husband's body beneath the plants.

Beatriz and her parents had to give statements, but it was quick. The cops closed the investigation quickly because their story checked out. Blood tests proved that Daphne had ingested the plant, and it was deemed a suicide.

A few months later, Beatriz graduated and moved to her university campus. She met regularly with a private therapist because the revelation had been traumatic, but she was okay. Focusing on academics and talking about her feelings was perfect.

But something did change in her. Beatriz learned that not all puzzles were meant to be solved. Some stones shouldn't be turned. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say. So, while working to discover the marvels of technology, she always remained cautious.

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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who learned her late son was switched at birth, and her bio son was still alive.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.