The day I gave birth, I saw my best friend secretly swap our daughters in the hospital. I pretended not to notice. I took her daughter home and raised her with love and care. Twenty years later, the daughter I raised had become a renowned artist. But my biological daughter, raised under my best friend’s cruel hand, was left disabled from years of mistreatment. On the day of the art exhibition, my best friend arrived with my injured daughter and a paternity test in hand. “The hospital mixed up our babies all those years ago. It’s time to switch them back.” I smiled calmly and replied, “Alright.” “my mom brought some fresh fruit from home—I thought I’d bring some over for you and Emily to enjoy.”My best friend, Lila Cooper, knocked on my door just like she always did. Ever since I brought her daughter, Emily, home to raise, Lila had been finding excuses to visit constantly. Sometimes, she’d say she wanted to share parenting tips. Other times, she’d claim the two kids needed to spend more time together so they wouldn’t grow up lonely. Once, she showed up at dawn, saying she’d had a nightmare about Emily getting hurt. Her excuses were endless, so much so that my husband, Lucas Hayes, often complained. “She’s been here more times over the years than I’ve traveled for work!” he’d grumble. To make things easier, Lila even bought the house next door, claiming that best friends should live close so their bond wouldn’t fade. But I knew the truth—she just wanted to keep an eye on her daughter. I didn’t expose her. I simply opened the door as usual. There she stood, dressed in an elegant designer dress, holding a basket of fruit. Behind her was a frail, bruised girl with hollow cheeks. That was my biological daughter. Lila had named her Sophie. As soon as she walked in, Lila set the fruit basket down and made a beeline for Emily. “Emily, your art exhibition is next week! What do you want as a gift? I will get you anything you want!” She gently stroked Emily’s hair, her adoration impossible to hide. Emily smiled sweetly. “Anything you buys for me, I’ll love!” Hearing that, Lila’s grin grew even wider. “Our Emily is such a darling! Not like that useless girl of mine—she’s dumb and ugly!” She shot a sharp glare at Sophie, then stormed over, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her inside. “Get in here, you little brat! What are you standing at the door for, like some kind of statue?” “You’re such bad luck—just looking at you ruins my mood!” Without another word, she slapped Sophie across the face, hard. Sophie fell to the ground, her lip splitting open, blood dripping down her chin. Emily flinched, startled by the sudden violence. But Sophie didn’t cry or protest. She simply got up, wiped the blood from her mouth, and muttered, “I’m sorry, Mom. I was wrong.” Apologizing after being beaten was something Sophie had grown used to over the years. It wasn’t the first time it had happened in my house, either. I quickly grabbed the first aid kit and started treating Sophie’s wound. As I worked, I couldn’t hold back my frustration any longer. “Lila, how can you treat your own daughter like this?” I snapped. “No matter what she’s done, she’s still your child. Don’t you feel even the slightest bit of pity for her?” But Lila just waved me off, her expression indifferent. “Why should I? She’s nothing but bad luck!” “Just look at her—she’s pathetic! She’ll never measure up to Emily. If I haven’t beaten her to death yet, she should consider herself lucky!” With that, Lila turned her back on Sophie and walked over to Emily, her face lighting up with a smile again. “Emily, I ordered that princess dress you love. I’ll bring it to you on the day of your exhibition!” “Thank you,” Emily replied politely. She’d always been gracious about Lila’s favoritism, never letting it bother her. Watching this, Sophie hesitated for a moment before timidly speaking up. “Mom… next week is my birthday, too. Could you maybe… get me a paintbrush?” I glanced down and noticed the paintbrush in her hand—it was short, worn, and the bristles were nearly gone. It was one of Emily’s old brushes, thrown away two years ago. Lila had picked it up and declared that Sophie didn’t deserve anything better. And Sophie had been using it ever since, even now, with her fingers red and frozen from the cold. “You? A new brush?” Lila sneered. “You’re lucky you even have that one! A birthday? Do you think you deserve that?” She raised her hand again and started beating Sophie mercilessly, screaming insults with every strike. The room filled with the sound of her shouting, Sophie’s cries, and the dull thuds of her fists. I watched the scene unfold, silent and expressionless. Lucas tried to intervene, and even Emily joined in, pleading for Lila to stop.
It seemed Lila Cooper didn’t want to risk upsetting Emily’s mood for painting, so she dragged Sophie out of my house without hesitation. The next day was the big painting competition for Emily. Lila showed up at my door bright and early, carrying a brand-new set of paintbrushes and art supplies. Behind her, there was no sign of Sophie. Lucas frowned in confusion and asked, “Where’s Sophie? Today’s her birthday too. Why isn’t she here?” Lila waved it off like it was nothing. “Oh, her? I broke her hand last night when we got home. It’s probably still hurting too much for her to come.” She said it so casually, her tone light and even a little smug, as if breaking my daughter’s hand was something to be proud of. Without waiting for a response, she breezed past Lucas’ stunned expression and walked into the house. She placed the shiny new art supplies in front of Emily, her voice dripping with affection. “Emily, sweetheart, it’s your big day! I won’t let anything unlucky ruin it for you!” As Emily reached for the paintbrushes, the sleeve of her shirt slid back slightly, revealing a faint bruise on her arm. Lila’s face darkened the moment she saw it. She turned to me, furious, and snapped, “What’s wrong with you, Danielle? How could you let Emily get hurt like this?” I replied flatly, “Kids get bumps and bruises all the time. Isn’t your daughter always covered in them too?” Hearing this, Lila’s face turned red with anger, and she yelled, “How dare you compare that useless girl to Emily? Emily is—” She stopped herself abruptly, realizing she’d almost said too much. Forcing a smile, she composed herself and said, “What I mean is, Emily has been pampered her whole life. She’s far more delicate and precious than that worthless brat. You’d better take better care of her!” Lucas, who had been silent until now, furrowed his brow and said sharply, “You’ve got some nerve to talk. If you hadn’t beaten your own daughter to the point where there was blood all over our house yesterday, Emily wouldn’t have felt the need to help clean up and accidentally hurt her arm.” At this, Lila turned to Emily, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “Emily, is that true?” she asked. Emily nodded earnestly. “Yes, I just wanted to help Dad and Mom out a little.” Hearing this, Lila’s heart practically melted. She stroked Emily’s hair lovingly and said, “Sweetheart, you don’t always have to be so thoughtful. Leave the hard work to your dad, okay?” “Your only job in this family is to enjoy yourself, understand?” After fussing over Emily for a while longer, Lila began meticulously preparing everything for the painting competition. She personally sorted the paints, arranged the brushes, and double-checked every detail. When the competition ended, Lila was practically glowing with pride. She couldn’t wait to ask Emily, “Emily, tell me—what’s your biggest dream? Whatever it is, I will help make it come true!” Without hesitation, Emily smiled and said, “I want to become a renowned artist!” Lila’s eyes sparkled with joy as she patted Emily’s head. “I might not be able to help you with that, but with your talent, I know you’ll make it happen. And when you do, I will give you a one-of-a-kind reward!” Her eyes were brimming with love and pride as she looked at Emily. I stood to the side, my lips curving into the faintest of smiles. A one-of-a-kind reward, huh? Oh, Lila… Don’t worry. I’ve prepared one for you, too.
Every time Emily entered a competition, Lila Cooper was far more enthusiastic than Lucas Hayes or me. As for my own daughter, after that day when her hand was broken, she disappeared from my life entirely. Whenever Lucas asked about her, Lila would wave him off, her face full of irritation. “Don’t bring up that little jinx! Just thinking about her makes me furious!” Because of Lila’s deliberate avoidance, I didn’t see my daughter again until years later—on the day Emily finally achieved her dream of becoming a renowned artist. At the celebration party I threw for Emily’s success, Lila arrived, dragging her limping daughter into the grand hall. She pulled out a carefully prepared paternity test report and, in front of all the guests, handed it to me. “Danielle,” she began, her tone heavy with feigned sorrow, “Sophie has been having a lot of health issues lately. I took her to the hospital for some tests, and that’s when I found out… she’s not my daughter.” “Apparently, the hospital mixed up our babies all those years ago. Sophie is your biological daughter, and Emily is mine.” Lila took a dramatic pause, her voice trembling as she continued. “We’ve been separated from our own children for far too long. It’s time to make things right. We need to switch them back.” She even managed to squeeze out a few tears, looking at Emily with a mix of love and regret, as though she were the one who had endured years of hardship. She stared at Emily with such intensity, her eyes filled with a calculated blend of affection and guilt, as if she were the victim of some tragic mistake. The room erupted in murmurs: “After all these years, they’re just supposed to hand over the daughter they’ve raised so carefully? That’s absurd!” “Think about everything Danielle has done for Emily—her success as an artist is entirely because of Danielle’s dedication. You can’t just erase twenty years of love and effort!” “Exactly! Who could bear to give up a daughter like Emily, especially for a child they’ve barely known?” One was a brilliant, successful young artist raised with love and care. The other was a frail, disheveled girl who could barely walk without stumbling. Anyone could see which choice would be easier to make. But as the voices buzzed around me, I simply smiled and said calmly, “Alright.” “If it was a mistake, then yes, we should correct it.” My words stunned the entire room into silence. Even Lila’s eyes widened in shock, clearly not expecting me to agree so quickly. Lucas stared at me in disbelief. “Danielle, have you lost your mind? You’re just going to give Emily to her, based on her word and some report that might not even be real?” My mother-in-law chimed in, equally panicked. “She’s right, Danielle! This is a serious matter. You can’t just make a decision like this without investigating it properly!” Ignoring their protests, I spoke with unwavering certainty: “Emily is indeed her child.” “I saw it myself, twenty years ago, when the two babies were switched.”
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