Chapter 2

David was true to his word. Within the hour, he had arranged for a private room on the maternity ward's quietest floor. He handled the nurses and the paperwork with a determined efficiency that I loved. He was a good man, my David. A man who had been tricked and tormented just as much as I had in our previous life. This time, I would protect him too.

"All set," he said, returning to my side after the move was complete. "It's a corner room. Much more peaceful. I told the nurses' station no visitors until you give the okay."

"Thank you," I said, squeezing his hand. "I just feel so... protective. I don't want anyone else holding her yet."

"I get it," he said, his eyes shining as he looked at our daughter, Emily, sleeping in the bassinet beside my bed. "I feel the same way."

We avoided the first landmine. In my past life, my mother-in-law had swept into the room, followed closely by Lisa. They had passed the babies back and forth, exclaiming how wonderful it was that the cousins were born on the same day. The swap must have happened then, under the cover of all that chaotic joy. Today, there was no chaos. Just the quiet peace of our new little family.

Just as I was starting to relax, a knock came at the door. My body tensed instantly. David went to open it.

It was Lisa.

She stood in the doorway, a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face. She looked tired, her hospital gown rumpled, but her eyes were sharp and searching. She was holding a bundle in her arms. Alex.

"Sarah! I heard you moved. Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice dripping with fake concern.

David stepped partially in her way. "Sarah's just really tired. The doctor wants her to rest."

Lisa's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. She craned her neck to look past David, her eyes fixing on the bassinet next to me. I could see the flicker of calculation, the gears turning in her manipulative mind. She had expected to find us next door. She had expected easy access.

"Oh, of course," she said, recovering quickly. "I just wanted to see my beautiful new niece. And for Alex to meet his cousin."

She took a step forward, but David didn't move.

"Maybe tomorrow, Lisa," he said, his tone polite but firm. "Sarah really needs her sleep."

Lisa's eyes narrowed. She looked from David's resolute face to my exhausted one, then back to the precious baby sleeping peacefully. I could feel her frustration radiating across the room. She was shocked that I had preempted her, that her perfect plan had hit a snag.

"You're right," she said, forcing the smile back onto her face. "You two get some rest. We'll see you tomorrow."

She turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the quiet hall. I watched her go, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and victory. I had won the first battle.

I looked at David, who was frowning at the closed door. "Is everything alright between you and Lisa?" he asked. "That seemed a little tense."

"I'm just tired," I repeated, the lie tasting sour in my mouth. I couldn't tell him the truth. Not yet. He would think I was crazy, suffering from some kind of postpartum delusion. I had to be smart. I had to be patient.

As I held Emily close, the memories of what Lisa had done washed over me again, not as a confusing flash, but as a detailed, horrific film. I remembered the years of hell. Alex's constant, violent tantrums. The doctors' appointments, the specialists, the therapists. The judgmental stares from other parents at the park. The way my own family, even David's mother, slowly distanced themselves from us, tired of the chaos, tired of the "badly behaved" child I couldn't seem to control.

I remembered Lisa's pitying looks, her offers to "babysit" Emily so I could have a break, a break she knew I desperately needed because of the child she had forced upon me. She had played the part of the concerned best friend perfectly, all while gloating internally at the destruction of my life. She had my daughter, my happy home, my peace of mind. She had everything.

And in the end, her son, the boy she had cursed me with, had killed me. He had left me to bleed out on our living room floor, and Lisa, I was sure, would have attended my funeral with tears in her eyes, the grieving best friend to the very end.

No. Not this time.

This time, she would live the life she had intended for me. She would know the exhaustion, the fear, the isolation. She would face the violence and the heartbreak. She would pay for what she did. And I would have my life back, my a husband back, and my daughter back. I would have everything.