Chapter 94: The Truth Behind the Switch

—That June 23rd was a day of intense activity at Farallones Hospital, —Miriam began, her voice breaking as the weight of her words settled in the room—. That day, I arrived earlier than usual. I had to prepare everything for the job I would be paid for, and with that money, I would cover the bone marrow transplant that would save my daughter’s life.

She paused for a moment, her gaze lost on an undefined spot on the wall, as if she were watching scenes of a past that haunted her every night.

—I started by handing money to the colleagues involved in this dirty business. Visitors, doctors… practically everyone at the hospital received a bribe. I wasn’t the only one guilty, but I will always be the visible face of this atrocity.

She swallowed hard, her breathing unsteady.

—I received a call from one of the Ratasquillas. I believe it was Franchesco. His voice echoes in my head like a permanent echo: “Miriancita, Mrs. Ana Lucía Aristizábal is on her way with her husband, Albert Thompson. As soon as the baby is born, she must be taken away immediately. Until the boss's wife delivers the other baby, I’ll see, Miriancita, where something might go wrong; I’ll hold you accountable.”

Miriam closed her eyes as if the words were piercing her soul once again.

—I couldn’t let anything go wrong. My daughter’s life was at stake, and these people didn’t hesitate to fulfill their threats.

She paused, gathering strength to continue.

—Shortly after, Mrs. Ana Lucía and her husband arrived at the hospital. She was calm, her face radiating joy for the imminent arrival of her baby. They were accommodated in a room at the back, away from the commotion. Minutes later, Mrs. Amalia and her husband Frederick were admitted. She wasn’t well; they had administered a drug to induce labor and synchronize it with Ana Lucía’s.

Miriam twisted her hands, guilt visible in every gesture.

—Ana Lucía’s delivery was quick and uncomplicated. Her baby was born healthy. But as soon as she was born, the doctor on duty handed her to me immediately. He said I should take her to the incubator for some tests, but I knew the truth: I had to follow the orders.

Her voice cracked, and the room fell into a sepulchral silence.

—On the other hand, Amalia wasn’t as fortunate. Her labor was long and complicated. Losing strength, they had to resort to a nurse who literally pressed on her belly to assist. In the end, they managed to avoid a C-section, and the baby was born. But she was weak, too weak.

Miriam took a deep breath, fighting back tears.

—When the baby was born, Frederick handed me a pendant and a note. His hands were trembling, and his eyes were glassy with tears. They kissed their daughter several times before giving her to me. Amalia cried inconsolably, and Frederick tried to comfort her. “It’s for the best, my love. She wouldn’t survive a week. This is the right thing to do,” he said, but even he didn’t seem to believe his own words.

A young woman in the room, visibly affected, interrupted.

—Mrs. Miriam, could I get a glass of water? —Alexia asked, her face pale, her eyes dim.

—Of course. Get it from the kitchen —the retired nurse observed her closely—. Are you all right, miss? You seem unwell.

—I just need water. It’s been a long day, and I think my body is paying the price for skipping breakfast —Alexia replied with a weak smile.

—You didn’t have breakfast? —Miriam exclaimed, alarmed—. Officer, bring her some fruit!

As Alexia recovered, Miriam resumed her story.

—I went to the cubicle where the Thompson baby was, carrying the other baby in my arms. Through the glass, I saw Albert singing a song to his daughter. The love in his eyes was so pure that, for a moment, I doubted what I was about to do. I quickly hid and went to look for him, but when I returned, he was gone. Only the guard at the door remained.

Miriam clenched her hands, as if still feeling the weight of both babies.

—I made the switch. I placed the pendant and the note on the sick baby and wrapped her in a blanket. Then, a nurse accomplice took the healthy baby to the Michelini family. I handed the sick baby to Ana Lucía.

Tears began to fall down her cheeks.

—When I arrived in the room, Ana Lucía was alone. She held her baby in her arms, and her expression completely changed. Her eyes shone with happiness, despite her daughter being born with an obstruction in her superior vena cava. At that moment, I realized that baby couldn’t have ended up in better hands.

Miriam wiped away her tears and took a deep breath before continuing.

—Later, when I visited the Michelini family, the scene was completely different from what I had imagined. Amalia seemed to have forgotten all the pain and tears she had shed moments before. Her face was illuminated with a broad smile as she gently cradled the baby, as if holding the greatest treasure. It was as if, in that instant, all the suffering and doubts had vanished. Her eyes sparkled with hope, and she murmured words of love to the little one.

Miriam swallowed, recalling every detail with painful clarity.

—But Frederick… he didn’t share that happiness. I saw him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, brow furrowed. His eyes were dark, filled with a mix of frustration, sadness, and maybe even guilt. He barely looked at the baby, and when he did, there was an emptiness in his gaze that chilled me to the bone.

She stopped for a moment, breathing deeply before continuing.

—He didn’t say much. He just stayed silent, as if every word he might say would hurt him. I’m sure he agreed to all of this just to fulfill his wife’s desire. Amalia had tried to get pregnant for years, and her inability had plunged her into deep despair. But Frederick… I think deep down, he knew what they did was wrong.

Miriam clenched her hands, her expression reflecting the inner struggle that still tormented her.

—I remember at one point, Amalia looked up and asked Frederick to hold the baby. He hesitated, almost as if he were afraid to touch her. Finally, he did. He took the little one in his arms, but his posture was stiff, uncomfortable. He barely looked at her, and when he did, I saw tears welling up in his eyes.

The silence in the room grew heavier, as if Miriam’s words filled every corner with their pain and regret.

—I quickly said goodbye. I couldn’t bear to stay there any longer, seeing how that family was slowly breaking apart. But as I closed the door, I heard Amalia say something I will never forget: “Frederick, all of this is for our own good. One day, you’ll understand.”

Miriam’s voice broke, and her eyes filled with tears.

—I don’t know if he ever understood, but I haven’t. And I never will. Because that day, with every action, we didn’t just ruin our lives, but also those of those two families.

The atmosphere filled with oppressive silence. Each of Miriam’s words was a reminder of the suffering, the decisions, and the consequences that had marked the lives of so many people. The guilt and pain were palpable in every detail, like a constant echo in the room.