He Said It Was Not Mine
“That baby isn’t mine,” Nathan whispered, his voice cracking against the sterile sigh of the hospital hallway.
I stared at the tiny hand, the extra finger like a cruel punchline.
“What do you mean? He’s ours—our son.”
He shook his head, eyes darting to the door, as if someone might hear.
“His name is Gabriel. I’ve been getting… messages. From Gabriel.”
My breath hitched; the word hung in the air, a jagged edge.
“Who is Gabriel?” I demanded, the word “who” trembling.
He swallowed, his jaw clenching. “Someone who’s been texting me. He says… he knows about the baby.”
My mind raced, trying to catch the fragments of a conversation I never wanted to hear.
The room felt smaller, the walls closing in on us.
I reached for his hand, but he pulled away, his fingers trembling.
“Why would he…?” I started, but the monitor’s soft beeping drowned my question.
He stared at the baby, then at me, a storm of guilt and fear swirling behind his eyes.
“Maya, I need to tell you something. I’ve been hiding a phone.”
My heart pounded, each beat a drum of dread.
“What phone? Show me.”
The Hidden Phone
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