**Diary Entry 12th May**
Ill never forget the knock at the door. The moment everything changed. Two strangers stood there, pale-faced, clutching a folder. The womans hands trembled as she spoke: *”You have to give us the child. Were his real parents.”*
Just that morning, my little boy had been pleading not to go to school. *”Mum, can I stay home? My head hurts again,”* Jamie had murmured, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. He looked peakydark circles under his eyes, his usual spark dimmed.
*”Again? Thats the third time this week,”* Id said, stirring the soup. *”Maybe we should see the doctor?”*
*”No, just tired. Can I stay?”*
*”Well see in the morning. Finish your homework.”*
*”Already done. Even maths.”*
I pressed a hand to his forehead. No fever, but something was off. My lively boy, who used to bounce off the walls, now spent hours staring out his bedroom window.
*”Jamie, is everything alright at school? No ones bothering you?”*
*”Fine, Mum. Just my head.”*
Later, my husband, David, came home from his shift at the garage. Took one look at my face and frowned. *”Whats wrong?”*
*”Jamies headaches. Third time this week.”*
*”Right. Doctor, then.”*
David went to talk to him. Low voices, then silence. When he returned, he rubbed his temples. *”Says hes fine. But agreed to see the doctor tomorrow.”*
At dinner, Jamie barely touched his shepherds pie. Pushed the peas around, drank his tea, and asked to go to bed early.
*”Dyou think hes got a crush?”* David mused. *”Happens at that age.”*
*”Hes eight, David.”*
*”Kids grow up fast these days.”*
That night, I checked on him twice. He tossed in his sleep, mumbling. The second time, his eyes fluttered open.
*”Mum?”*
*”Go back to sleep, love.”*
*”Mum do you love me?”*
*”Of course I do. More than anything.”*
*”What if what if Im not yours?”*
My blood ran cold. *”Dont be silly, Jamie. Youre mine. Now sleep.”*
He turned over, but I stood there, frozen. Where had that come from?
The next afternoon, the knock came. The strangers*Andrew and Claire Bennett*had documents. DNA tests, hospital records. Their words slithered into my ears: *”There was a mix-up at the hospital. Eight years ago. The babies were switched.”*
I gripped the doorframe. *”Thats impossible.”*
Claires voice cracked. *”Our sonthe boy we raisedhe needed a blood transfusion. The tests showed he wasnt ours. We tracked Jamie down. The DNA matches.”*
*”You stalked my child?!”*
*”We had to know.”*
David came home then, took one look at the scene, and snarled, *”Get out.”* But Andrew stayed firm. *”Were not monsters. We just want to meet him. He already knowshe approached us yesterday. Said he *felt* it.”*
And then Jamie walked in. Took in the tear-streaked faces, the tension. Looked straight at the Bennetts and said, *”Youre them, arent you? My real parents.”*
My knees buckled. *”Jamie”*
*”Its okay, Mum. I always knew I didnt look like you or Dad.”*
The room spun. Claire reached for him, sobbing. *”We dont want to take him. Just to know him.”*
Jamie, my brave boy, nodded. *”Can I have tea with them? Talk properly?”*
We sat at the kitchen table, the silence thick. Claires hands shook as she sipped her tea. *”Our sonMaxhes eight too. Loves space, like Jamie. Reads encyclopaedias.”*
Jamies eyes lit up. *”Can I meet him?”*
Davids jaw clenched. *”No. Youre *our* son.”*
But Jamie just said, *”Dad, its not about blood. Its about love. And Ive got enough for everyone.”*
Later, after theyd gone, David and I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. *”What do we do?”* I whispered.
*”We let him meet Max. For his sake.”*
The next morning, Jamie bounced into the kitchen. *”Lets all go to Hyde Park! The four of us, the Bennetts, Max. Well figure it out together.”*
So I called Claire. Voice trembling, I said, *”Lets meet. All of us.”*
She cried. *”Thank you. Thank you.”*
Jamie hugged me tight. *”Itll be okay, Mum.”*
And for the first time, I almost believed him.
—
(Would you have done the same? Let me know in the comments.)
