Chapter 5: What Paula Saw
I pressed the call button before Owen could reach the phone.
A different nurse answered — young, ponytail, the kind of efficient calm that comes from a long shift.
I asked her to send Paula from the Room 4 nurses' station to my room.
I used the name clearly and watched Owen's face while I said it.
He sat down.
He didn't try to stop me.
That told me something.
Paula arrived eleven minutes later.
She was in her fifties, broad-shouldered, with the kind of face that had stopped performing patience a long time ago.
She stepped inside, saw Owen, and her expression shifted in a way that was almost imperceptible.
Almost.
"You asked for me?" she said to me.
"I did.
Please close the door."
She did.
"My daughter told me something tonight," I said.
"About what happened in this ward while I was under anesthesia.
I'd like to hear your version."
Paula looked at Owen once.
He said nothing.
She looked back at me.
"What did your daughter say?"
"That my husband was holding a different baby.
That he told her it was ours.
And then a nurse took it away and brought a different one."
Paula was quiet for a moment.
Her hands were clasped in front of her.
She wasn't fidgeting.
"There was a mix-up," she said.
"With the ID bands.
It happens rarely, but it happened tonight.
Both babies were delivered within minutes of each other, and in the handoff from the surgical suite, the bands were applied to the wrong infants."
"How long were they switched?"
"Approximately forty minutes."
My breath left me.
"Forty minutes," I repeated.
"Yes."
"And my husband was with the wrong baby for forty minutes."
"He was in the ward, yes.
He had been told the baby he was holding was his son."
I looked at Owen.
"You held another couple's baby for forty minutes and told our daughter it was her brother."
"I didn't know," he said.
"Rachel, I didn't know.
They handed him to me and I—" He stopped.
"I didn't know."
"When did you find out?"
Paula answered before he could.
"I caught the discrepancy when I cross-checked the birth records against the band numbers.
Standard procedure.
I came to Mr.—" She paused.
"I came to your husband and informed him that the baby he was holding belonged to another family, and that your son was in the secondary ward."
"What did he say?"
Paula's jaw tightened slightly.
"He asked me not to document it."
The room went very still.
"He asked you not to document a baby mix-up," I said.
"Yes."
"And did you?"
"No," Paula said.
"I documented everything.
It's in the incident report filed at 11:42 tonight." She looked at Owen.
"I told him I would."
I turned to Owen.
He was looking at the floor.
"Why?" I asked him.
"Why would you ask her to hide it?"
He didn't answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was very quiet.
"Because I panicked.
Because I knew how it would look.
Because I'd been holding that baby and talking to him and I just — I panicked."
"That's not the whole reason."
He looked up.
"You knew Daniel Mercer," I said.
"You recognized him.
And then you found out your babies had been switched." I watched his face.
"What did you and Daniel Mercer talk about in that hallway, Owen?
What did you actually say to each other?"
The baby in the bassinet made a sound.
We both looked at him.
He was awake now, eyes unfocused and blinking at the ceiling light.
Owen stood up.
"I need some air."
"You need to answer my question."
He walked to the door.
"Owen." My voice stopped him.
"If you walk out of this room without answering me, do not come back tonight."
His hand rested on the door handle for a long moment.
Then he walked out.
Paula watched the door close.
She turned back to me.
Her expression had not changed.
"Is there anything else you need?" she said.
"Yes," I said.
"I need to know if there's a way to confirm — with certainty — which baby is mine."
Paula nodded slowly.
May you like
"There is.
And you have every right to request it."
