Chapter 1

Slumped on the carpet, trying to snatch a moment of peace, I suddenly heard a sweet, innocent voice:

[I’ve done so much for Mommy to stay pretty! Having to be held by such a messy woman every day – who even considers *my* feelings?!]

I jolted upright, looking at my son lying next to me, sucking on his hand.

Just as I wondered if exhaustion was making me hallucinate, the voice came again:

[What are you staring at?! So annoying! If it weren’t for you taking care of me fairly well, I would’ve found a way to get Daddy to kick you out ages ago!]

I pinched myself hard.

The sharp pain proved the voice wasn't my imagination.

While I was still trying to process what those two sentences meant, the doorbell rang.

The next second, my best friend, Chloe, opened the door and walked right in.

Seeing her carrying multiple bags of baby supplies, I instinctively said,

"I told you we have everything at home, why are you wasting money again?!"

Chloe set her bags down and walked straight to the bathroom, clearly familiar with the layout.

"What's wrong with me spending a little money on my godson? Don't be mad, there’s a dessert I picked up for you in one of the bags!"

That distraction pushed the strange incident to the back of my mind for a moment.

I rummaged through a bag and found a Black Forest cake.

Just as I settled onto the couch, I heard that voice again:

[Mommy, come hold me! I want to smell Mommy’s nice scent so badly!]

My hand, poised to open the dessert, froze.

I watched Chloe emerge from the bathroom, stride quickly to my son, and scoop him into her arms.

"Oh, my little angel! You’re such a good boy today! Come give godmommy some snuggles!"

After Chloe rubbed her cheek against his,

Leo giggled nonstop.

At the same time, I heard an impressed sigh:

[Mommy’s skin is so smooth! Ugh, if only I wasn't worried about Mommy working too hard, I'd want to be with her every single day!]

I had no idea why I was suddenly hearing these thoughts.

But those repeated calls of "Mommy," clearly not directed at me, stirred a lot of questions.

With that premise,

I looked at Chloe and Leo together, and that's when I started to notice things were off.

It seemed every time Chloe was around, my usually hard-to-soothe son would smile much more often.

Was it a coincidence?

Or was my baby, who was still in diapers, doing this on purpose?

"Chloe, anyone would think Leo was *your* son. Every time you come over, he acts like an angel. If he were always this easy, I wouldn't be this wrecked."

I said it as a joke.

Because I was watching Chloe closely, I didn't miss the fleeting look of smugness in her eyes.

"Maya, you can't say that! Taking care of a baby is definitely tough, but hasn't Leo brought you a lot of joy and a sense of accomplishment too?"

A soft, childish voice immediately chimed in:

**[You're just the nanny my Mommy and Daddy carefully picked out! Know your place! It’s your privilege to take care of me!]**

Chloe was focused on playing with Leo and didn't notice my face fall as I sank into thought.

During my pregnancy, I was swamped with work, which affected my unborn baby.

Leo was not only premature but also a high-needs baby.

When he was uncomfortable, someone had to hold him constantly.

The moment you put him down, he'd fuss and whine non-stop.

Wet or soiled diapers had to be changed immediately.

Even a slight delay would send him into a full-blown tantrum.

When it was bad, he'd cry until he held his breath.

Because of Leo's special needs,

I went through three nannies during my postpartum recovery.

Everyone said it was my fault for not being careful during pregnancy, causing my baby so much suffering.

I was overwhelmed with guilt, and a few months after Leo was born, I finally made a decision.

I changed my life plans.

I quit my job and became a stay-at-home mom.

Now, Leo was eight months old.

Even with a nanny's help, I was physically and mentally exhausted.

After less than half a year of childcare, I felt like I'd aged ten years.

I had no energy for dieting, no desire to dress up.

Seeing me so disheveled, Julian rarely spoke to me, except when it concerned Leo.

I was frustrated and hurt.

But I simply had no strength to argue with him.

Five months of selfless care.

My marriage was in a deadlock.

My health was deteriorating.

And now, I was being told Leo might not even be *my* son?

Where was my baby then?

What about all the suffering and exhaustion I’d endured these past few months?