Zero percent probability of maternity.

I was stunned. I printed the result and rushed to Vanessa’s house, where Paul was staying.

“Mary, I told you I need space.”

“Look,” I said, holding the paper. “The test says I’m not Austin’s mother either.”

His expression changed instantly—from anger to fear.

“I thought it meant the lab was faulty,” I said.

“That lab’s one of the best,” Paul murmured. “I took another test at a second lab. Same result.”

“Then what does this mean?”

“Austin’s not our son.”

I tried to laugh. “That’s crazy. Babies don’t get switched anymore, right?”

Paul looked deadly serious. “We need to go to the hospital.”

We explained the situation to the nurse. After checking records, she returned with the chief medical officer.

“There was only one other woman who gave birth that same day. She also had a son. It’s possible your children were switched.”

“So it’s true?” Paul shouted.

“We’re deeply sorry. You have the right to seek compensation.”

“How is money supposed to make up for this?” I said through tears.

The nurse handed us contact details for the other parents. Their names were Sarah and James, and their son—our biological son—was named Andrew.

We arranged to meet at our house, both couples bringing the boys. That night, Paul and I let Austin sleep in our bed. I whispered, “He’s still our son, right?”

“Of course,” Paul said. “No one’s taking him away.”

The next day, when Sarah and James arrived, everything clicked. Andrew looked exactly like Paul, while Sarah and James, both blond, looked like Austin.

“We suspected something early on,” Sarah admitted, crying. “But we figured it was just genetics.”

“We did a test too, after your call,” James added. “Everything suddenly made sense.”

“We don’t want to give up Austin,” I said.

Relief flooded their faces. “We were scared you’d try to take Andrew,” James said.

“We’d like to stay in touch,” Sarah offered.

“Yes,” I agreed. “Absolutely.”

As the boys played together, unaware of the emotional chaos surrounding them, I felt an odd sense of peace. The truth had shaken us to the core—but at least now, we knew it.