My Husband Stole Our Baby for His MistressChapter 1
The moment my mother-in-law learned I was going to register my son, Nathan, as a Native American under my name, she became furious at the hospital.
She stood outside the delivery room with her hands planted on her hips, hurling curses loud enough to make the walls tremble.
Still groggy from the anesthesia, I tried to fight through the pain and explain. I told her that if we registered him under my name, he'd get a fifteen-point boost on his college entrance exams. That kind of advantage could change a kid's whole future.
Eleanor didn't care and didn't even pretend to listen. Instead, she threatened to throw herself off the building.
And in the end, I gave in.
What I never saw coming and could never have imagined is that she would go behind my back and change my legal address and personal records without even telling me.
By the time I found out, I had already spent over a year as a person without a legal identity. And it was too late to fix it and too late to undo what she'd done.
Without proper documentation, I lost my job. I was a young woman, married away from my family, trapped in a house that never truly felt like mine, and under the control of a woman who made it her daily goal to wear me down until I had nothing left.
Years later, when Nathan failed the college entrance exam, missing the cutoff by exactly fifteen points, she twisted the knife one more time.
"If it weren't for your selfish mother refusing to register you under her name," Eleanor said, practically gleeful, "you wouldn't have had to suffer like this, my poor grandson!"
That was the last thing I heard before my son stabbed me.
And Paul, my husband? He actually used our son's supermale syndrome diagnosis to write a clemency letter to the court, begging for leniency, like that somehow made everything okay.
But when I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in a courtroom or a hospital bed. I was in the delivery room back at the time when I was about to give birth to my son.
——
Right then, a sharp wave of pain ripped through my abdomen, and warm liquid spread beneath me.
"Amara, don't be afraid. Your mother-in-law just called. She and your husband are on their way," said a familiar voice.
My eyes snapped open, and I met the maternity nurse's gaze. Aunt Clara's eyes were filled with concern as she hovered over me.