The Erased Son

was ready. Or

, but my eyes never left my son. I held him close, the familia

ide, the picture

, honey. Relax.

. "Just a long

s birthmark, a tiny, perfect brown spot on his shoul

sense of dread washed over me be

d to th

baby girl

lyzing as the first time. My so

d Maria entered the room, their fac

?" Chloe asked, her

I said, my voice flat and

tarted again, alm

' re not mak

again,

bout your own daughter? Yo

rgue. I turned, walked into the adjoini

d, my breath coming in ragged

ery. I scroll

n their place were photos of the baby girl. Me holding her. Chloe holdin

ts of congratulations for my "beautiful baby boy," was now a po

riends and family about my son, all se

tal life had b

t swapped a baby. They had erased my son from existence and replace

floor, the phone clattering from my numb finge

er me. I curled up on the small sofa in the corner of t