11
Juliet’s phone rings a little past six in the morning, waking her from a deep but uncomfortable sleep in which she is dreaming about squirrels taking over her yard after eating mutant superhero-inducing black-oil sunflower seeds. Two of them have just roared and dumped out the biggest feeder when the chirping begins. It sounds like a cricket, so she rolls with it as part of the dream, but finally drags herself to the surface.
Chair. Legs under a coat. Hospital.
That’s right. She opted to stay at the hospital with everyone, instead of trying to make her way to the house. The storm was terrible when she’d curled up in here, but she can tell it has stopped; the room is quiet and light gray, the dawn beginning.
She stretches and answers the call with a groggy hello.
“It’s Cameron. And you, my friend, are a bitch. I’ve been up all night trying to prove your theory.”
Juliet unfolds herself from the chair.
“Yeah, well I slept in a chair and dreamed of mutant squirrels. What’s up?”
“The tests are correct. I ran a clean sample from scratch myself. There’s not a genetic match between you and your sister and your niece. Nor her dad, by the way. I’m sorry.”
“Well, that’s freaking confusing.”
“It is. I’d start looking at the hospital records from the day of her birth if I were you.”
“What?”
“If she’s not a biological match to your sister, then who is she a match to? I’m just saying, there might be a chance there was a screwup at the hospital. It happens.”
“You mean, like, she was switched with another kid?”
“You say you knew her before and after birth...then yes, it’s the only explanation.”
How? How can this be happening? But she bites back her reply. Cameron is good at what he does, and if he says there is no match, then she needs to start looking at the alternatives.
“I’ll get on it. Jeez. How in the world do I break this news?”
“Let the doctors handle it. They’ll have seen the results by now and will be coming to say something. I sent them the final reports a few minutes ago.”
“But this is my sister we’re talking about. My family. I have to give her a heads-up. I don’t want her freaking out in front of Mindy.”
Cameron answers with a long yawn. “Your call. Let me know what happens, will you? I admit I’m intrigued. It’s not often that we have switched-at-birth cases. If you find the parents, we could publish together. And now I’m going home for a few hours’ rest.”
“Thanks a lot, Cam. I appreciate it. I owe you one.”
His laugh is a comforting rumble. “Come work for me, and all will be forgotten and forgiven.”
“We’ll see... Sleep well. Thanks again.”
She sits in silence for a few moments, trying to absorb what she already knew, but hasn’t wanted to believe. There is only one answer possible here, and Juliet does not relish sharing it with her sister.
Somehow, someway, seventeen years ago, the hospital made a horrible mistake and sent Lauren home with the wrong child.
*
The doctors come at 7:00 a.m., their faces calm masks. They talk. They are upbeat. This happens sometimes. The donor database is being contacted as they speak. They are sure there will be several matches. And, the doctor from Boston adds, he’s developed a new system that helps alleviate GvHD, graft-versus-host disease, which means he can fine-tune the matches to the point where it is virtually impossible for Mindy’s body to reject the donor cells. New system, highly sophisticated, blah, blah blah. Her chances are even better than before.
Juliet’s gaze swings from Mindy, who doesn’t look surprised by the news there isn’t a match, to Jasper and Lauren, who look terrified. Juliet feels horrible. She should have warned them; she should have given them a chance to process the information. Carrying secrets has never been her forte, and holding back something this huge from her sister is overwhelming.
She wonders which doctor is going to break the rest of the news and spare her the agony. She puts her bet on the new guy, the tall, handsome fellow with the Boston accent who gave her a very appreciative glance when he came into the room, thank you very much.
She missed his name, something like Berger or Barger, so she is mentally calling him Dr. Braveheart. He has that classic nose and lots of long brown hair. He looks like a rebel. He looks like he has nothing to lose.
She is surprised when the two men simply nod at her and leave without saying a word.
What’s she supposed to do now? Call them out? Then she’ll have to admit she’s been spying in the files, and that won’t go over well.
Crap.
She can’t just let this go. It is too big, too important. Not finding a match is one thing. But the fact that Mindy is not genetically related to her own family? That is a disaster in the making.
Lauren starts to cry. Juliet spares her a quick glance. Jasper is attending to her, so she follows the doctors into the hall to see if she can glean something off of them. But they are hurrying away, heads down, talking low to each other.
Gee thanks, guys.
Back inside the room, Mindy is now holding her mother, trying to calm the flood of tears, while Jasper looks on miserably. Mindy catches her eye, and Juliet sees the fierce pain in them.
They’ve already given up, her look screams. Don’t you dare give up on me, too.
“Lauren. Lauren, honey. Come here.” Juliet pulls Lauren from Mindy’s bed and marches her out into the hall. Lauren is like Jell-O, legs wobbling, body malleable, going wherever Juliet leads her, which is right down the hall into the private, quiet room.
She pushes Lauren inside, shuts the door, leans against it, and crosses her arms.
“Scream.”
“What?”
“Scream. Do it here, do it now. You can’t fall apart in front of her like that. She needs you to fight with her. Not to give up, not to give in.”
“The odds—”
“Fuck the odds. This kid is more than the odds. She always has been.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. You have no idea what it’s been like. What it’s like to lose your heart, your soul. If she dies—”
“She’s not yours.”
Lauren stops dead, mouth open in a small little O, a silent scream.
“What did you just say?”
Shit.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.”
“What in the name of God are you talking about?”
“The reason there isn’t a match. She’s not your child. Not only isn’t there a match for the stem cells, but there’s not a genetic match at all.”
“There must be some mistake.”
“That’s what I thought, too. I saw the file yesterday, and I thought they’d done something wrong, so I called the lab—I know the head of it—and had him redo the tests himself. She’s not your child. The hospital must have made a horrible mistake, and they switched her with another baby. I have no idea how that happened, but it was seventeen years ago. The security and standards have changed dramatically. I bet the other family has no idea, either.”
“Juliet Ryder, you are out of your mind.”
Lauren tries to push past her, heading for the door, but Juliet is taller and heavier, and simply stands in the way.
“I’m not. It’s science. It’s a terrible thing, but this is real, it’s happening, and you have to listen to me. We’re going to have to open an investigation, the CBI will handle it, and of course we’ll be discreet with it, but you know I can’t stay quiet about this. It’s going to get out.”
“An investigation?” Lauren manages to sound fearful and furious at the same time. “There will be no such thing. This is a mistake. If it were true, the doctors would have said something. You’ve dreamed up all this because you aren’t the center of attention, for once. You are welcome to leave. Leave, now, and don’t come back, and we’ll forget this entire conversation ever happened.”