Nancy’s world shattered at her husband’s funeral when a mysterious older woman appeared, holding a baby. The woman claimed the child she carried belonged to Nancy’s late husband. Was this the truth—or was there something even more s.h.o.c.k.i.n.g waiting to come to light?
As Nancy stood silently, staring at the last remnants of Patrick’s funeral, she still couldn’t believe he was truly gone. A car accident had taken his life, and though a week had passed, it felt like he was still with her somehow. How could he possibly be dead?
With a heart weighed down by sorrow, she turned toward the cemetery’s exit, silently telling herself that it was time to begin piecing her life back together.
Then, out of nowhere, an older woman holding a baby stepped directly into her path.
“Are you Nancy?” the woman asked, her voice soft as the baby in her arms whimpered.
Nancy looked at her, confused. She had no idea who this woman was.
“I am. Who are you?” Nancy responded.
Nothing could have prepared her for the woman’s next words. Her name was Amanda, and she claimed the baby she held was Patrick’s.
“You’re the only one who can take care of her now,” Amanda said. “Her mother can’t provide for her.”
A chill ran down Nancy’s spine. She stared at the baby, then took a step back.
“No. This isn’t possible. Patrick was devoted to me. He would never have done this.”
Unable to believe it, Nancy turned and walked away. She refused to let doubt into her heart.
“Watch out!”
She nearly collided with Mike, one of Patrick’s old friends. Distracted and emotionally overwhelmed, she hadn’t even seen him.
Mike offered his condolences, engaging her in polite conversation. Nancy didn’t want to speak to anyone, but she forced herself to be courteous. She ended the conversation quickly and made her way to her car.
Yet as she opened the door, a terrifying surprise awaited her—the same baby Amanda had been holding was now lying in her back seat, crying.
Nancy looked around frantically. Amanda had vanished. “How did this baby even get here?” she thought, panic rising.
It was cold out, so Nancy removed her jacket and gently wrapped it around the baby to keep her warm.
But then she froze. Her eyes landed on a tiny birthmark on the baby’s neck. “It can’t be,” she whispered.
That birthmark—it was identical to Patrick’s. The resemblance was undeniable. As much as Nancy didn’t want to believe Patrick could have been unfaithful, she now needed answers.
With a surge of determination, Nancy took the baby home. There, she found Patrick’s old hairbrush and pulled strands of hair from it. She drove straight to the hospital.
“I’d like to request a paternity test,” she told the receptionist.
“Sure, ma’am. The results usually take a few days,” the woman replied.
“Can it be done faster? I’m willing to pay more,” Nancy insisted.
“We do offer expedited service, though it does come at an extra cost.”
“I’ll take it,” Nancy said firmly, submitting Patrick’s hair sample and paying the fee.
She sat in the hallway with the baby, waiting anxiously. When the baby began crying again, Nancy checked her diaper—it was clean.
“She must be hungry,” Nancy thought.
With some time to spare, she drove to a nearby supermarket, picking up baby formula, bottles, and diapers. Back at the hospital, she fed the baby while waiting for the results.
Eventually, a nurse approached with an envelope.
Nancy took a deep breath. “This is it. Whatever the truth is, I have to face it.”
She opened the envelope—and her heart nearly stopped. “Paternity rate – 99%.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she stared down at the sleeping baby in her arms. Patrick had betrayed her, kept a secret life she never imagined.
But Nancy knew one thing—she couldn’t raise this child as a reminder of his betrayal. She had to find the baby’s real mother.
Once home, Nancy began combing through Patrick’s belongings. She searched every drawer, every corner of his closet, but found no clues.
Determined, she turned to his home office. Still, nothing. No names, no photos, no letters.
The baby slept peacefully in the living room. Nancy grabbed the baby monitor and headed out to Patrick’s car. She searched everything—the glove box, under the seats, every hidden compartment—but again, nothing.
She slumped into the driver’s seat, feeling hopeless—until her eyes landed on the GPS.
A realization struck her. Patrick had always been bad with directions. If he had visited this mysterious woman, he would’ve used the GPS.
Nancy navigated to the “Recent Destinations” list. Most entries were familiar: work, stores, restaurants. But one address stood out. It appeared more frequently than the others—and she didn’t recognize it.
“This must be it,” she thought. Taking the baby with her, Nancy drove straight to the address…