A Malicious Swap

My daughter unplugs my oxygen tube before throwing herself into her nanny's arms. "The old hag is finally dying, Mom. I don't need to call a thief my mother anymore!"

It turns out the nanny switched my child for hers when they were born. I've spent the last two decades doting on the nanny's daughter.

I die of an aneurysm after recalling my birth daughter's horrible death.

When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day my daughter was born.

"Why did you have a baby girl? I should never have let my son marry you, you jinx! Because of you, the Turner family is doomed to end!"

The suffocating pain of near death made me feel like my lungs were about to burst, while the familiar yet shrill scolding gradually became clear.

A surge of hatred jolted me awake.

Doris Nelson, my mother-in-law, sat by my hospital bed. She sipped on her soup as she hurled insults at me.

"You got my son killed and birthed a worthless brat in return! You're not getting any of this soup!"

This happened on the day my daughter was born.

Had I been reborn?

I remembered just moments ago, the child who I'd painstakingly raised had unplugged my oxygen supply and then chatted away with the nanny happily.

It was then I'd discovered my child had been swapped shortly after birth.

I'd died in agony, filled with betrayal and despair.

At present, Doris flung her spoon into the thermal container and slammed it onto the bedside table.

"If you're awake, get up and wash these. I need to lie down for a bit. I've been up all night because you just had to go into labor in the middle of the night!"

Her words mirrored those from my previous life.

It seemed I'd returned to the day my daughter was born.

Somewhere in the newborn nursery, Christine Loman must be swapping the babies as we spoke.

Ignoring the searing pain of childbirth and my feeble state, I scrambled off the bed barefoot and staggered out of the room.

When I reached the nursery, Christine was stepping out with a smug smile.

The babies had been swapped!

Trembling with rage, I prepared to call for a nurse to detain Christine and alert the authorities. But the next second, a voice froze me in place.

"Is it done?"

It was Randy Turner, my father-in-law. He was part of this too!

Randy said, "If it weren't for Lana, Frank wouldn't have had to sneak out to see you and Hazel in the middle of the night. Then, he wouldn't have died in that car crash."

As I leaned against the wall for support, I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

In my previous life, Randy and Doris had claimed that Frank had ventured out late at night and gotten into a fatal car accident all because I'd mentioned wanting a cake from a certain bakery before bed.

I'd lived in guilt and self-blame, endured their abuse, and provided for them until their deaths.

But the truth was so vile.

"Christine, you and Frank grew up together, and we've always treated you as our daughter-in-law. If it weren't for the Jepsen family's coercion, I wouldn't have let Lana in the door, much less let you serve as a nanny. Swapping the babies is a form of justice, and Jepsen Group will be our compensation to Hazel."

I didn't know how long I stood frozen until Christine and Randy finally left. When I came to, I found myself standing by my daughter's crib.

I recognized her immediately even though she was lying in the crib that should've belonged to Frank and Christine's illegitimate child. After all, I'd risked my life to bring her into this world.

She was only two days younger than Hazel Turner, and they shared a resemblance. However, I knew deep down that she was my child.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

Tears blurred my vision as I cradled my daughter for the first time over two lifetimes, and my heart broke at the thought of her previous life, which had been filled with suffering.

Just then, her tiny hand brushed against my cheek, as if to wipe away my tears.

Looking at her delicate face, I snapped back to reality.

By the time I left the nursery, the babies had been swapped back.

This time, all the torment Christine had planned for my daughter would befall her own child.

When I returned to the hospital room, Doris was snoring loudly.

I contacted Pamela Abrams, my former housekeeper.

After my parents' deaths, Frank had taken over our family business. Pamela had repeatedly warned me about the Turners, which irritated Doris and resulted in her eventual dismissal.

I had made the wrong choice back then. It was the Turners who should've been kicked out.

I instructed Pamela to pack up their belongings. Then, casting a cold glance at Doris's sleeping figure, I upgraded myself to a VIP room and stationed bodyguards at the door.

After that, I consulted with my lawyer.

A portion of my assets was premarital property, while the rest was an inheritance designated by my parents. Frank had no share in any of them.

He'd only recently assumed the position of CEO and hadn't yet managed to trick me into signing over any of the company's stock before his untimely death.

Once Frank's funeral arrangements were swiftly handled, I froze all secondary cards linked to his accounts that supported Doris, Randy, and Christine and reclaimed control of Jepsen Group.