105 Minutes Left, I Protect Myself

The delivery room clock read 1:15 a.m. I had just been born. In just a little while, a nurse named Gemma Fox would slip into this room, steal me away, and swap me with someone else's baby. Last time, nobody stopped her. I spent twenty grueling years trapped in a cramped, rundown apartment. By the time I found my real family, the fake heiress had already beaten me to it. One poisoned drink later, I was dead. But this time was different. I'd spent ten years clawing my way through the underworld, earning enough redemption points for one impossible reward, a second chance. Staring at the clock on the wall, I silently counted down the minutes. Gemma would make her move in exactly one hour and forty-five minutes. ***** In exactly one hour and forty-five minutes, Gemma would push open that door. She would claim she needed to take the baby for a newborn screening. Exhausted to her bones, my mother, Sarah Sterling, wouldn't suspect a thing. Then, Gemma would carry me down the hall to the utility room at the very end of the corridor. Her cousin, Megan Davis, would be waiting there in the shadows, clutching another newborn baby girl. It took only three minutes to swap the two wristbands. Chloe Sterling would become Chloe Davis. And Emma Davis would become Emma Sterling. That was exactly how they robbed me of twenty years of my life. But right now, I was nothing more than a brand-new infant. I was incapable of speaking, rolling over, or even holding up my own head. At that point, all I could do was cry, cling, and stay awake. Yet, that was more than enough. Ten years in the underworld taught me something important, nothing set off a mother's instincts faster than fear for her child. All I had to do was trigger it. Sarah held me for a while, her eyelids beginning to droop heavily. My father, Arthur Sterling, leaned in and whispered, "Get some sleep, honey. I'll keep an eye on her." 'Absolutely not.' In my previous life, Arthur offered the exact same thing. Exhaustion eventually won out. In the dead of night, he retreated to the couch, leaving Gemma with the perfect window of opportunity. I didn't need Arthur watching me. I needed to be held by Sarah, to be locked in her embrace so securely that we couldn't be pried apart. The instant she began lowering me into the bassinet, I unleashed an ear-piercing, blood-curdling shriek. I screamed so hard my tiny body shook in her arms. Sarah jolted awake instantly, snatching me back into her arms. "What's wrong, sweetie? Shh, Mommy's here," she cooed. The second her arms tightened around me, I went dead silent. Tears pooled in my massive eyes while my tiny fist clamped onto the collar of her hospital gown in a death grip. She blinked in surprise and said, "Look how hard she's grabbing me. It's like she's terrified I'm going to put her down." When Arthur stretched his arms out to hold me, I cut him off with a shriek that was louder and more ear-splitting than before. It worked so flawlessly that he drew his hands back in pure shock. I snuggled deep into Sarah's embrace, falling silent once again, my tiny fingers refusing to let go of her collar. Arthur let out a helpless chuckle and said, "She's barely two hours old, and she's already a total mama's girl?" Tears shimmered in Sarah's eyes as she smiled. "I think she only wants me." She wrapped her arms tighter, pressing me firmly against her heart. "Then I won't put her down. I'll just sleep with her in my arms tonight." The minutes ticked by. By two o'clock, Arthur was softly snoring on the sofa. Sarah was fighting sleep, too, but I made sure to let out a soft, fussy whimper every ten minutes. It was just enough to trap her in that blurry limbo between sleep and consciousness. I watched two-thirty slip into two-forty and then two-fifty. My pulse went into overdrive, racing wildly. At exactly two fifty-five, a faint set of footsteps echoed from the far end of the hallway. The rubber soles of nursing shoes squeaked against the tiles, barely making a sound. But I heard them. The footsteps stopped right outside our door. The handle slowly turned. A woman in scrubs stepped into the dimly lit room. She was in her mid-thirties and of average height, wearing a perfectly rehearsed, polite smile. She wheeled an infant transport cart inside. Her name was Gemma. I had been waiting ten long years for her arrival. She kept her voice to a soft whisper. "Mrs. Sterling, I'm so sorry to wake you. Hospital policy requires us to take the baby for a newborn metabolic screening. Just a quick heel prick, and I'll have her right back to you." Sarah groggily forced her eyes open. "A screening? Right now?" Gemma replied, "We typically do it within two to four hours after birth. It's much easier to handle while the baby is sleepy and quiet." She delivered her words flawlessly, her voice dripping with a gentle, practiced professionalism. This was the exact deception that had fooled Sarah in my previous life. As Sarah's arms began to relax, I knew the moment had come. A shattered scream burst from my throat, shattering the silence of the ward. I wept, kicked, shook my head wildly, and shuddered with my entire body. Curling into a ball, I held onto Sarah's chest with a death grip. All ten of my tiny fingers dug into the fabric of her gown, anchoring myself as if I were welded there. Startled, Sarah instinctively wrapped both arms around me, holding me tighter than ever. "What is it, baby? Mommy's got you!" Arthur shot up from the couch, wide awake. "What's going on?" Gemma's practiced smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she quickly composed herself. "Mr. Sterling, it's just a routine screening. The talking probably startled her." Arthur watched as I wailed as though my heart were tearing apart and then cast a hard look at Gemma. "Does this screening absolutely have to be done right this second?" Gemma argued, "Well, hospital policy states..." "My daughter is clearly distressed. Can't it wait until morning?" Arthur retorted. Gemma's mouth twitched. "Besides," Arthur said, stepping toward the door and glancing out into the hallway, "you're not the nurse assigned to our floor tonight, are you?" The air in the room froze for two agonizing seconds. Gemma stammered, "I... I'm covering a shift for a coworker. She had an emergency." Arthur didn't say a word. His gaze darkened, turning cold and sharp. "Then do me a favor and have the charge nurse schedule it tomorrow. Tonight doesn't work for us." Gemma opened her mouth, clearly wanting to push back. But Arthur was already sitting on the edge of the bed. He placed one hand protectively on Sarah's shoulder while using the other to gently rub my back, making it obvious the conversation was over. Gemma's eyes lingered on me for a few long seconds. The polite smile cracked just long enough for me to see the irritation underneath. Then, she turned on her heel and wheeled the empty bassinet out of the room. I instantly swallowed my cries and melted into the warm, safe harbor of Sarah's chest. She patted me gently, humming a slightly off-key lullaby. Arthur never went back to the couch. He just stayed sitting right there on the edge of the bed, watching over us until morning.