The nurse examined Lucy’s twins before discharge, but Lucy was shocked when she returned them. The nurse had brought two baby girls after the examination, and Lucy had given birth to one boy and one girl.
Lucy and her husband Ross had been trying to conceive for a long time, and when they discovered they were expecting twins, they were over the moon.
The ultrasound had revealed they would be having a boy and a girl, and the couple was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the twins. However, when the nurse brought the children post-examination, they were both girls. Lucy’s face turned pale.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Where has my son gone? What exactly did you do to him? And whose baby is this other girl?” she screamed, gazing at the nurse who had just brought the kids in.
“They are your daughters, ma’am,” the nurse, Savannah, said, her eyes fixated on the documents. “I double-checked the reports and I’m confident there is no error.”
“Have you lost your senses?” Lucy snapped. “I have all the reports with me as proof that I was supposed to deliver a boy and a girl. And I was informed about the same after delivery. There’s no way they’re both girls!”
Lucy noticed the fear in the nurse’s eyes when she looked up from her reports. She was about to say something to her when Dr. Linda Carter walked in. “Would you please keep quiet, ma’am? This is a hospital, and there are other patients,” she explained to Lucy.
“Quiet? Seriously?” Lucy glared at her. “Your nurse brings me a random child, then tells me she’s not wrong! Is that how your hospital administration operates? Should I contact the chief doctor and inform him of the situation?”
“I agree with my wife, doctor. We don’t want to create a scene either,” Ross intervened. “But your nurse is lying. We don’t know why she’s doing that, but if we don’t get our son back, we’ll have to call the police!”
“Please, sir, calm down,” Dr. Carter said. “I’m sure there’s just some misunderstanding. Savannah has been working at this hospital for several years. Perhaps she brought the wrong documents. Savannah, may I have a look at the papers?” Dr. Carter inquired. But Savannah didn’t give it to her and instead started stammering, “There’s no need, ma’am…I mean, I checked it, and they’re fine.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Dr. Carter sensed something was wrong and softly told her, “It’s fine. Let me quickly check the reports.” However, when she read through them, she realized Lucy was correct.
“Please give me a minute, ma’am,” she said as she flipped through the pages. “I assume Savannah brought the incorrect paperwork. There was another patient named Lucy Matthews, and Savannah got confused.”
“I’m glad you noticed your mistake,” Lucy said, glaring at her. “I would recommend that you hire responsible people as members of the staff the next time!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Dr. Carter apologized again as she turned to face Savannah. “Would you mind accompanying me, Savannah? I need you to find the correct reports for me.”
Savannah swiftly followed Dr. Carter, but Lucy spotted the tears in her eyes as she walked away. She got a strange feeling Dr. Carter and Savannah were up to something, so she decided to follow them.
She watched them both enter Dr. Carter’s clinic and then heard someone crying. It had to be Savannah, she reasoned. Fortunately, the door was slightly ajar, so Lucy sat on one of the chairs just outside the room and listened to what they were saying.
“What were you thinking, Savannah?” Dr. Carter spoke in a firm tone. “Lucy Matthews delivered twins: a boy and a girl at 10:30 a.m. today. Even the reports said that. Why are you lying to them? Be honest!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“I didn’t have a choice, ma’am,” Savannah sobbed. “That other newborn girl belongs to my sister. Her spouse had abandoned her after he learned about the pregnancy, and unfortunately, she didn’t make it post-delivery. I could have adopted her, but my husband refused.”
“Why don’t you place her in a nursing home?” Dr. Carter proposed. “She’d be well taken care of there.”
“I’m afraid I can’t, ma’am. It was my sister’s last wish for her daughter to grow up in a loving home,” Savannah sobbed.
“When I saw Mrs. Matthews this morning and how she and her husband were supporting each other, I thought they would be a beautiful family for her. So I decided to swap Mrs. Matthew’s son with my sister’s daughter and place him in a nursing home instead.”
“But that’s not right, Savannah,” Dr. Carter pointed out. “We can’t let that happen. Get Mrs. Matthews’ son right now. And, yes, this should stay confidential between us. Let me see what I can do for you.”
Lucy’s eyes had welled up when she heard the story. There wasn’t a nefarious intention behind exchanging the kids. A helpless woman wanted her niece to end up in a lovely family. I feel sorry for the child, honestly. Lucy pondered as she returned to her room.
A few minutes later, Dr. Carter returned to Lucy’s room and handed over her newborn son. “Sorry about the mixup, ma’am. I apologize on behalf of my staff,” Dr. Carter said.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Having overheard the whole story earlier, Lucy, decided not to file a complaint against her. But every time she tried to sleep at home that night, her thoughts returned to the poor child, and her innocent face flashed straight in front of her eyes.
“I can’t forget about her, Ross,” Lucy told her husband at breakfast the next day. “I had a dream yesterday in which I saw a girl who had come to our house by mistake and was living peacefully with us. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t get that out of my head.”
“It’s because of what happened yesterday, honey,” Ross explained. “Try to distract yourself with something else. How about we go somewhere? You’ll feel better.”
“No, Ross,” Lucy looked at him. “I don’t feel like leaving that child alone. I want to adopt her.”
“But honey!” Ross cried. “Are you sure? We already have two children to look after, and a third would be far too much! Don’t make emotional decisions! We need to be practical.”
“I understand, Ross, but please. I can’t persuade myself. I pondered it all night and decided to adopt her. Can we please go to the hospital today?”
“Well, honey. I am there with you in all your decisions, but I’m worried it’ll be too much work for you.”
“I can manage that, Ross. Please?” Lucy insisted.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Ross initially opposed the adoption, but his feelings changed when he held the child in his arms. She had brown eyes with a slight green tinge, and she kept staring at him. Ross was moved by her innocent looks, to say the least.
“I’m delighted you considered adopting her, Mr. and Mrs. Matthews. She is indeed lucky,” the doctor told them.
“Well, doctor, we tried a lot for kids, and now, when a child wants to come to us, we can’t just let it go. Just let me know when we can take her home,” Lucy said.
“It’ll take some time, but for now, I’ll submit the documents to expedite the process.”
As the doctor had said, it took some time, but Lucy and Ross had no regrets about their decision. When they brought the child home, they felt as if their family was finally complete. They named the baby girl Amelia.
Savannah visited them after learning Lucy and Ross had adopted the child and couldn’t stop thanking them. Since then, she’s become a regular at the Matthews’, and she mostly spends the weekends with Lucy’s kids: the twins Sia and Mark and Amelia.
What can we learn from this story?
- Relationships are formed through love and care, not necessarily by blood. Lucy and Ross’s adoption of Amelia as their kid is a beautiful example of this.
- Some accidents are beautiful. Savannah brought Amelia to Lucy simply because she wanted her to be adopted by a good family, and in the end, the poor child was blessed with a lovely family.
Food and Sweets Started Disappearing from My Home — When I Turned On the Hidden Camera, I Went Pale
Food kept vanishing from Christine’s home — first chocolates, then entire meals. When her husband, Samuel, swore he wasn’t the culprit, she set up a hidden camera. When she spotted the intruder on the footage, her blood ran cold.
At first, it was just little things disappearing from my fridge and kitchen cabinets. A handful of chocolates missing from the box I’d been saving. The juice boxes Samuel loved, running out faster than usual.
Juice boxes on a table | Source: Pexels
Each time something disappeared, I’d do a mental inventory, trying to remember if I’d eaten it myself in some late-night fog.
But I knew my habits.
I could make a box of chocolates last for weeks, savoring one piece at a time. Not the type to devour half a box and forget about it.
A box of chocolates | Source: Pexels
Still, I tried to rationalize it.
Maybe Samuel was sneaking midnight snacks. Maybe I was working too hard, losing track of things.
But then the incidents started escalating.
A woman in a kitchen looking worried and confused | Source: Midjourney
A bottle of wine we’d been saving for our anniversary — the one I specifically remembered pushing to the back of the cabinet — suddenly appeared in the recycling bin.
The fancy cheese I’d bought for our dinner party was half-gone before the guests even arrived.
Each disappearance felt like a tiny paper cut to my sanity.
I started keeping a log.
A woman writing in a notebook | Source: Pexels
Monday: half a box of imported cookies missing.
Wednesday: three pieces of dark chocolate were gone.
Friday: the special raspberry preserves I’d ordered online were nowhere to be found.
The pattern was maddening, not just because things were disappearing, but because of what was being taken.
A thoughtful woman sitting at a kitchen table with a notebook | Source: Midjourney
These weren’t random snacks or plain food — they were all the premium items, the special treats, the things I’d carefully chosen and looked forward to enjoying.
Then the caviar disappeared. Not the cheap stuff either, the premium Osetra I’d splurged on for Samuel’s birthday. $200 worth of tiny black pearls, gone without a trace.
That was the final straw.
A tin of caviar | Source: Pexels
Although it was out of character, the only logical explanation was that my husband had been snacking in secret. I had to confront him if I was ever going to get to the bottom of this mystery.
“Hey, babe,” I said one morning, trying to keep my voice casual. “Did you finish that box of Belgian truffles I bought last week?”
Samuel looked up from his coffee, forehead creasing. “What truffles?”
A man sitting in a kitchen looking confused | Source: Midjourney
My stomach did a weird little flip. “The ones on the top shelf of the pantry. Behind the cereal.”
“Haven’t touched them,” he said, taking another sip. “Didn’t even know we had any.”
I stared at him, searching his face for any sign he was joking. Samuel was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. If he said he hadn’t eaten the chocolates, he hadn’t eaten the chocolates.
Which meant either I was losing my mind, or someone else was helping themselves to our food!
A shocked woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Are you sure?” I pressed, my voice tighter now. “The caviar from your birthday is gone too. And that wine we were saving for our anniversary? The one from our trip to Napa?”
That got his attention. Samuel’s coffee cup froze halfway to his mouth. “The what? That stuff was expensive! And I was looking forward to opening it next month.”
“I know.” I crossed my arms, leaning against the counter. “And unless we’ve got a very sophisticated mouse with expensive taste, someone’s been in our kitchen!”
Close up of a woman with a serious expression | Source: Midjourney
I watched as the implications sank in.
Someone had been in our house. Multiple times. While we were sleeping? While we were at work? The thought sent a chill down my spine.
“Maybe we should set up some cameras?” Samuel suggested, his voice uncertain now. “Just to be safe?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Maybe we should.”
A couple having a serious conversation at the kitchen table | Source: Midjourney
The camera was easy enough to hide: a small wireless one tucked behind some cookbooks on the kitchen shelf.
I positioned it carefully, making sure it had a clear view of both the pantry and the refrigerator. Then I waited, jumping every time my phone buzzed with a notification.
Two days later, I was at work when my phone buzzed with a motion alert.
I ducked into an empty conference room and pulled up the live feed.
An empty conference room | Source: Pexels
I’m not sure what I was expecting; a maintenance worker, a hungry, homeless person with expensive tastes, or… I don’t know, a very ambitious raccoon?
Instead, I watched in growing disbelief as my mother-in-law, Pamela, waltzed into our kitchen like she owned the place.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered, eyes glued to the screen.
A woman staring at something in shock | Source: Midjourney
She moved with the confidence of someone completely at home, pulling out a wine glass, and helping herself to the expensive Bordeaux we’d been saving. She even knew where we kept the good cheese.
The way she moved through our kitchen; opening drawers without hesitation, and reaching for items without searching, told me this wasn’t her first solo visit to raid our kitchen. Not by a long shot.
But it was what happened next that made my blood run cold.
A concerned woman staring at her phone | Source: Midjourney
Pamela didn’t leave after finishing her impromptu wine and cheese party. Instead, she strolled into the hallway and turned toward our bedroom.
The kitchen camera couldn’t show me what she was doing in there, but luckily, I’d placed additional cameras throughout the house, just in case.
I switched to the feed from the bedroom and nearly dropped my phone in shock.
A bedroom | Source: Pexels
Pamela was slipping into my favorite dress. She then turned to admire herself in the mirror. Pamela wasn’t just stealing our luxury snacks, she was trying on my clothes!
But the worst was still to come.
My jaw dropped as I watched her go straight to my underwear drawer and start digging through my lingerie.
A woman staring at her phone screen in horror | Source: Midjourney
She slipped my favorite dress off and tried on the satin and lace teddy I bought just last week.
WHAT THE HELL! Pamela hadn’t just overstepped the boundaries, she’d snapped them entirely.
But why? Pamela and I had always had a rocky relationship, but this was downright disturbing. And how did she even get into our house?
A worried woman staring at her cell phone | Source: Midjourney
The next day, I called in sick to work. I lurked in the hallway, determined to catch my thieving MIL in the act.
Right on schedule, at 2 p.m. Pamela let herself in.
I waited as she went through her now-familiar routine: wine, cheese, a little caviar for good measure.
Then she headed for the bedroom.
A woman walking down a hallway | Source: Midjourney
The moment she started rifling through my closet, I stepped into the room to confront her.
“Enjoying yourself?” I asked.
Pamela screamed, spinning around so fast she nearly toppled over. “Christine! I — I was just—”
“Just what?” I kept my voice eerily calm, even as rage boiled under my skin. “Just breaking into our house? Just eating our food? Just trying on my underwear?”
A woman speaking angrily to someone | Source: Midjourney
She blushed, but instead of shame, I saw indignation in her eyes.
“I was checking to make sure your wardrobe still suited you! As Samuel’s mother, I have a responsibility—”
“To what? Make sure your son’s wife dresses to your standards?” I crossed my arms. “Where did you get a key?”
A furious woman confronting someone | Source: Midjourney
“Samuel gave it to me!” she shot back. “He said I could stop by anytime!”
I almost laughed. “Really? That’s interesting, considering he’s been just as confused as I was about the missing food.”
Something flickered across her face… fear, maybe? But it was quickly replaced by that familiar self-righteous expression I’d grown to hate over the years.
A mature woman with a smug, confident smile | Source: Midjourney
“Get out, Pamela.” I took her by the elbow and marched her to the door. “And give me the key!”
She pulled herself away from me and glared at me like I was something nasty she’d just scraped off her shoe. “This is my son’s house, too, Christine. And I’ll drop by whenever I like!”
She stormed off then, her nose in the air. But it was clear this was far from over.
A thoughtful woman staring out a window | Source: Midjourney
That night, I showed Samuel the footage. His face went from confused to horrified to furious in the span of 30 seconds.
“I never gave her a key,” he said when I asked him about it, his voice tight with anger. “How the hell did she get one?”
We got our answer the next morning when Pamela showed up, acting like nothing had happened.
Samuel blocked the doorway. “Mom. Where did you get the key?”
An angry man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
She blinked innocently. “Oh, that? I just made a copy! For emergencies, you know.”
“Emergencies,” I repeated flatly. “Like emergency wine drinking? Emergency dress-up sessions with my clothes?”
Pamela looked sadly at Samuel. “Well, maybe if you spoiled your Mommy with more delicious food and bought me the beautiful clothes you buy for your wife, I wouldn’t have been so curious.”
A mature woman appealing to someone | Source: Midjourney
I’d had enough. It was time to end this.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to give us back every copy of that key you made.”
She scoffed. “And what if I don’t?”
Samuel dropped a brand-new lock set on the table. “Then you’ll be wasting your time trying to break into a house you can’t get into anymore.”
A serious man speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
Pamela stood there, her face twisting with barely contained rage. Then she yanked a key from her purse and slammed it onto the counter. “Fine! But don’t expect me to help you when you need me!”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, we never did.”
She stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows. She spent the next few weeks sulking, refusing to apologize or even acknowledge what she’d done wrong.
A couple sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
Samuel got the brunt of it as she bombarded him with texts and calls about how unreasonable I was being, and how he’d regret this if we had an emergency.
But he didn’t let her manipulate her way back into our lives.
I changed the locks that same day. Now, every time I open my fully stocked fridge or slip into an unworn dress, I smile, knowing my home is finally, truly mine again.
A woman twirling in a new dress | Source: Midjourney
And if Pamela wants to know what I’m wearing or eating these days? Well, she’ll just have to use her imagination.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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