She didn’t sit down.

She looked straight at me and said, in a low, steady voice,

“You need to call the police.”

My heart began hammering so violently I could feel it in my throat.
“The police?” I asked, panic flooding my voice. “Why? Did Ryan do something?”

Dr. Patel placed the envelope on her desk but didn’t open it. Her tone was careful, deliberate. “I want to choose my words very precisely,” she said. “This isn’t about relationship issues. This concerns a possible crime—and your baby’s safety.”

I stared at her, completely lost. “Is the test… incorrect?”

“The DNA results are back,” she said. “And they are not what anyone anticipated. The baby is not biologically related to Ryan.”

For a split second, relief tried to surface. If that were true, Ryan would look foolish, and this nightmare could finally end. But Dr. Patel’s expression remained grave.

“And,” she added evenly, “the baby is not biologically related to you either.”

The room seemed to tilt. I gripped the edge of the chair to keep from falling. “That can’t be right,” I whispered. “I gave birth to him.”

“I know what you went through,” she said gently. “I’m not disputing your experience. But genetically, there is no maternal match. When we see results like this, we consider two urgent explanations: a laboratory error—or a baby mix-up.”

My mouth went dry. “A mix-up… as in switched babies?”

“It’s rare,” Dr. Patel said, “but it does happen—most often during extremely busy shifts when protocols aren’t followed perfectly. We immediately contacted the lab to verify the chain of custody. They’ve confirmed that all samples—yours, the baby’s, and Ryan’s—were correctly labeled and processed.”

I pressed my hand to my chest, struggling to slow my breathing. “So… what does this mean?”

“It means law enforcement needs to be involved right away,” she replied. “Hospital security and administration are already being alerted. If this was an accidental exchange, we must find the other infant immediately and ensure both babies are safe. If someone interfered intentionally, then this becomes a criminal investigation.”

Without realizing it, my arms tightened around the baby carrier. My son—my son—made a soft sound in his sleep. Tears blurred my vision.
“Are you saying someone took my baby?”

“I’m saying we don’t know yet,” Dr. Patel said. “And we can’t afford to wait to find out.”