"Give it back. Now."
Tears welled in Lindsay's eyes, then spilled down her cheeks, splashing onto the floor.
"How can you accuse me of something like that?" Her voice cracked. "Is that really what you think of me? That I'm some kind of monster?"
Dale stepped in front of Lindsay, shielding her behind him. His gaze cut toward Hildegarde like a blade.
"Where's your proof? What gives you the right to accuse her?"
"Don't think that carrying my children entitles you to do whatever you want."
"I've told you before. I will never love you. Not in this lifetime. Lindsay is the only woman I'll ever love. I told you not to start trouble. Were you even listening, or did my words mean nothing to you?"
How could I not know?
The day the Swansons found her and brought her home happened to be the same day Athena Sanchez arrived with Dale to discuss his engagement to Lindsay.
The moment Hildegarde walked through the door, Athena's eyes locked onto her with a hungry, appraising stare.
"Now this girl," Athena said, circling her like she was inspecting livestock. "Good frame. Rosy complexion. You can tell just by looking at her—healthy constitution, regular cycles."
Before Rod Swanson or Annabel Swanson could object, Athena had already dragged both girls to the hospital for a full physical examination.
The results were predictable. Hildegarde was perfectly healthy. Lindsay was underweight, fragile, and diagnosed with PCOS.
The truth was, Hildegarde and Lindsay had been born on the same day. Lindsay's biological parents had heard Hildegarde's strong, lusty cries and compared them to Lindsay's feeble mewling. They'd switched the babies in secret.
If not for a routine checkup years later, Rod and Annabel would never have known their daughter had been swapped.
Athena studied the medical reports, then clasped Hildegarde's hand, her eyes crinkling with satisfaction.
"This one. She can bear children."
She turned to Dale. "You'll marry her."
Dale glared at Hildegarde as though she were the source of every misfortune in his life.
"Lindsay and I have been engaged since we were children. How can you expect me to break that promise?"
Athena's expression hardened, her voice turning razor-sharp.
"Your engagement was with the Swanson family. Not with Lindsay specifically. This is their biological daughter."
She lowered her voice, each word deliberate.
"Or have you forgotten your condition? Your low sperm count? If you don't marry a woman who can actually conceive, you'll end the family line. Is that what you want? To hand everything over to your father's mistress overseas and her bastard son?"
As for Rod and Annabel, they simply wanted a daughter married into the Sanchez family to cement the alliance. Which daughter it was made no difference to them.
And just like that, Hildegarde found herself married to Dale Sanchez.
The wedding reception hadn't even ended when he cornered her, his voice low and venomous.
"I will only ever love Lindsay. Never you. Not for a single day."
"Play the part of a good wife. Give me children. Do that, and I won't mistreat you."
"But if you cross Lindsay—if you so much as make her uncomfortable—I will make you regret it."
The memory shattered as her phone buzzed in her hand. A notification from the security system. Someone had entered her room.
It was Lindsay. Clear as day on the footage.
In the video, Lindsay picked up the insulin and walked out.
Hildegarde held the phone in front of Dale's face.
"The surveillance footage is right here. Lindsay took my insulin. Are you still going to defend her?"
Her voice dropped, quiet and raw.
"You don't love me. Fine. But do you not love your own children either?"
Lindsay bowed her head, biting her lip hard enough to leave marks.
"I'm sorry, Dale," she whispered. "I did hide the insulin."
She looked up, eyes glistening. "But I only did it for the babies. It was just a white lie."
Dale pulled Lindsay into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Then he turned to Hildegarde, and the look in his eyes could have drawn blood.
"If you ask me, this is all your fault."
"If you weren't so lazy—if you'd actually exercised instead of relying entirely on medication—Lindsay would never have felt the need to hide it."
"And now she's the one being blamed. She's the one suffering because of you."
Even with the evidence right in front of him, he still chose Lindsay.
The room tilted. Black spots crowded the edges of Hildegarde's vision, and her knees buckled. She hit the floor before she could catch herself.
As consciousness slipped away, she could feel the gurney wheels squeaking beneath her, rushing down the corridor.
