“If your mom is the one who did this, I won’t let her touch you. But if she’s looking for you, I’m bringing you home.”
Sleep finally took her. That night, in a cardboard box, a light of hope burned that no storm could put out. Morning didn’t bring warmth, only a harsh light that exposed the grime of her clothes.
Dana walked for hours, crossing the invisible borders between the industrial district and the wealthy suburbs. Her arms were numb from the weight, and her feet ached. The baby slept in fits and starts. When she finally reached the Sterling estate, she froze, hiding behind a manicured hedge.
It was a palace of white marble and glass, gleaming in the sun. But Dana’s heart sank not at the wealth, but at the activity. There were caterers, florists, and a line of luxury cars.
“It’s a party,” Dana whispered, realizing what was happening.
A banner over the entrance read: “Welcome Home, Leo Sterling.”
They were celebrating the birth of the heir, unaware of the truth. Dana looked at the bundle in her arms with bitterness. The real Leo was here, in a dirty sweater, while they toasted a ghost. Anger flared in her chest.
How could they smile while their son had spent the night in a box? She couldn’t go through the front gate—security would toss her out in a heartbeat. Circling the perimeter of the massive property, Dana found an old oak tree with branches hanging over the wall.
“Hold on tight,” she whispered, tucking the baby securely under her coat.
With a desperate effort, she scaled the wall and dropped into the garden. Soft music and laughter drifted from the house. Dana crept through the shrubbery toward the terrace. Peering through a floor-to-ceiling window, she saw a ballroom filled with beautiful people.
In the center, in a chair that looked like a throne, sat Timothy Sterling, and beside him, his wife Elizabeth. She looked pale but happy, accepting congratulations. And in her arms, she held a baby wrapped in expensive lace. The infant looked perfect in his little designer outfit.
Elizabeth looked at the child with such love it was painful to watch. Dana was confused.
“How?” she whispered, looking at the baby in her own arms. “If you’re here… was I wrong?”
Maybe there were twins no one knew about?
Then she saw her—the woman who changed everything. A woman in a maid’s uniform approached Elizabeth with a tray. Dana recognized the profile instantly. It was the woman from the landfill. There was no doubt.
Her name tag read: Sarah. Dana watched in horror as Sarah smiled at Elizabeth, adjusted her pillow, and patted the head of the baby the mistress was holding. The hypocrisy of the scene made Dana’s blood boil. Fear vanished, replaced by a fierce need for justice.
She stepped out from the shadows, took off her dirty outer coat, and revealed the face of the baby she had saved. Guests on the terrace noticed her first and gasped.
“Hey! Someone call security!” someone shouted.
Dana didn’t stop. She marched forward like a soldier.
She burst into the ballroom, and her appearance was like a bomb going off. The chatter died instantly. Dana took a deep breath and shouted as loud as she could:
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