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My Husband Raised the Wrong Daughter After My Death Novel Cover

My Husband Raised the Wrong Daughter After My Death

Struggling with a changing body and a strained marriage after pregnancy, a devoted wife hopes to rekindle her husband's lost affection. She recreates the exact meal from their cherished third date, carrying it to him in a stale-smelling cab. Yet, what was meant to be a tender gesture to revive their connection instead serves as the catalyst for a haunting mystery that will alter their lives forever.
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Chapter 2

The NICU hummed. Machines breathing for babies who couldn't breathe on their own. Lily was in isolette number seven. Three pounds, two ounces. They said she was lucky. They said I was lucky.

I didn't feel lucky.

I sat in the plastic chair with my hands pressed against the glass. Lily's chest rose and fell. Tiny. Perfect. Mine.

Logan came back with coffee I wouldn't drink. He'd been gone two hours. When he sat down, his face had that look. The one that meant he'd found something.

'Tell me,' I said.

He set the coffee down. Pulled his phone out. Opened a file.

'Six months ago I did a cybersecurity audit for a law firm in Midtown,' he said. 'Montgomery Group was one of their clients. I found encrypted communications Richard Montgomery thought he'd buried.'

I looked at him. 'What kind of communications?'

'The kind where a married man arranges a payoff to make a problem disappear.' Logan's voice was flat. 'He got a woman pregnant. She had the baby. He wanted nothing to do with it. Paid her twenty thousand dollars and made her sign an NDA. She dropped the infant at a safe-haven facility in Newark. Richard's lawyer handled the paperwork to make sure it couldn't be traced back.'

My heart kicked. 'When?'

'Four months ago.'

I stared at Lily through the glass. Her tiny fist curled against her cheek.

'Where's the baby now?' I asked.

Logan hesitated. 'Foster placement in Jersey City. The family's been trying to adopt but the state's dragging its feet. Red tape. Background checks.'

I tilted my head. Went still.

Logan knew that look. He'd known me twenty years. He waited.

'Tell me everything,' I said.

He did. The facility. The foster family's names. The social worker who handled intake. The timeline. The documentation. He'd kept it all. Filed it away like he filed everything—just in case.

When he finished, I looked at Lily again. At her perfect face. At the machines keeping her alive.

'I need to get her out of the country,' I said. 'Somewhere Adonis can't follow. Somewhere Victoria's money doesn't reach.'

Logan nodded slowly. 'France. I have contacts in Provence. Small town. No extradition complications if you're not officially a criminal.'

'I can't just leave with her. He'll come after me. He'll use his money and his lawyers and he'll take her back.'

'So we make it so he can't.'

I looked at him. 'How?'

Logan leaned forward. His voice dropped. 'We give him a different baby. Richard's baby. The one he abandoned. We swap them.'

The words hung in the air between us. Machines beeped. Somewhere down the hall, another baby cried.

'He'd be raising his father's bastard,' Logan said. 'His own half-sister. And he'd never know.'

I thought about Adonis on his knees with roses. His hands in Skye's hair. The wineglass in my mother's sink.

'Keep going,' I said.

---

We planned it over two nights. I didn't sleep. Just sat in that plastic chair and ran scenarios.

Logan would approach the social worker. Marguerite Fabre. She'd handled Richard's baby's intake. He'd tell her a version of the truth: a mother fleeing domestic violence, a powerful family, a child who needed protecting. He'd offer money. Not a bribe. A donation to the facility. Enough to matter.

If Marguerite agreed, we'd arrange the swap during a transfer. Lily would be discharged in five days. The foster family would bring Richard's baby to the facility for a routine checkup the same morning. Logan's contact would handle the documentation. Birth certificates. Medical records. We'd switch the ID bracelets. Two babies. Same age. Same size, near enough.

Adonis would take Richard's daughter home. Believe she was his. Raise her in the Montgomery machine while Lily and I disappeared.

Then I'd die.

Logan looked at me when I said it. 'Emmeline—'

'I need to die,' I said. 'On paper. Completely. A car accident. Something fast and final. You can arrange it.'

He didn't argue. He knew I was right. As long as Emmeline Cruz existed, Adonis would look for her. But if she was dead—really, legally, irrevocably dead—he'd stop looking. He'd grieve. He'd move on. And Lily would be safe.

'Dental records,' Logan said quietly. 'We'll need a body.'

'Jane Doe from the morgue. Someone unclaimed. You have contacts.'

He nodded. 'It'll take time. Paperwork. Bribes.'

'How long?'

'Two weeks. Maybe three.'

I looked at Lily. Her tiny chest rising and falling.

'Make it two,' I said.

---

Logan left to call Marguerite. I stayed with Lily. Put my hand against the isolette glass. She shifted. Her eyes moved under closed lids.

'I'm getting you out,' I whispered. 'I'm getting us both out.'

She didn't wake. Just kept breathing. Kept living.

I thought about Adonis. About the man I'd loved. The man who'd defied his entire family for me and then fucked his assistant in my mother's bed.

I thought about Victoria. About the way she'd looked at me at our wedding like I was something stuck to her shoe.

I thought about the Montgomery fortune. The penthouses. The offshore accounts. The dynasty built on entitlement and cruelty.

And I thought about the baby in Jersey City. Richard's abandoned daughter. The one he'd paid to disappear.

She'd live in penthouses now. Wear designer clothes. Grow up thinking she was a Montgomery.

And Lily would grow up free.

I pressed my hand harder against the glass.

'We're going to disappear,' I told her. 'And they'll never find us.'

Machines beeped. Monitors glowed.

I didn't cry.

I just sat there and finished dying.

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