In The Best Interests Of The Child

He believed a lie. He broke my heart. But his son needs me and nothing will stop me from helping him. I promised to love my husband forever, but he didn't do the same for me. Just one lie and I found myself alone at the worst time of my life. I lost my baby, the man I loved and the life we ​​were building together. My career as a pediatrician not only lifted me up, but became my reason for living. I may not have been able to save my daughter, but I can save other people's precious babies. But it's in the hospital, in my little refuge, that Connor Mycroft has come back to haunt me. His son, a child I never even knew existed, is sick and needs the best pediatrician possible to lead his treatment. And unfortunately for the Mycroft family, that someone is me. My ex-husband still thinks I am the cause of all his misfortunes. His family hates me. His female "friend" seems willing to do anything to get rid of me. But I love little Theodore like I loved my own child and nothing will stop me from saving him.

The seventh time Dante Moretti served me divorce papers, I was sitting with my son in a cheap diner on Chicago's South Side. I forced a smile and brushed my hand over my son's hair. "Just wait a little longer, sweetheart. This time, Mommy will get custody of you." He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he looked up and asked, “Mommy, how much do you need to sell me for before you're happy?” Before I could answer, he pulled a handwritten divorce agreement from his backpack and pushed it toward me. "I know you keep fighting Dad for me because you want more money from him." "I wrote the agreement for him. Please sign it. Dad is already tired. Stop making his life so hard." His handwriting was crooked, but every word had been written with care. Dante would give me three million dollars. At the bottom, in my son's childish scrawl, was one more line. [After you take the money, don't bother me, Dad, and Serena anymore. Let us be happy.] Serena was Dante's childhood sweetheart. The woman he trusted more than his own wife. For five years, I had stood against Dante's family, his lawyers, and half the Chicago underworld just to keep custody of my son. For him, I would've walked away with nothing. But the child I had raised for eight years had already chosen another mother. So why shouldn't I give their perfect little family exactly what they wanted?

Raising your own child was natural. But raising another’s child was totally different. When Hannah wholeheartedly played the mommy and daddy role to Elisha, it had been her greatest fear to one day have the child’s real parents knocking on her door to take their unwanted baby back. But for four years, Hannah and Elisha managed to live peacefully. Just when Elisha’s real parents, Olive and Nate were about to tie the knot, Olive was found pregnant with another man. To be able to have her freedom, she told Nate, who surprisingly had no knowledge that he fathered a child, about Elisha. Furious that his daughter was kept secret from him for years, Nate took Elisha from Hannah. But up to what lengths could a mother go to keep her child? Even if Hannah didn’t give birth to Elisha, she’d do everything in her capacity to fight for her daughter. Even if it would mean going against the heartless and dangerous Billionaire, Nate Sarmiento in the process. Even if it seemed like she didn’t have a right, Hannah still raised his child and that’s an irreversible fact. But would Hannah survive the harsh treatment before she could even see Elisha again? If she would, what about from Nate’s charms? Could her inexperienced heart handle the danger of falling in love with a man who loves someone else?

I spent ten years raising my stepson. Even though he never once called me 'Dad,' I never let him go without. Food, clothes, tuition, living expenses, I paid for everything. But on New Year's Eve, during the family reunion dinner, he suddenly spoke up in front of everyone. "Old man, I've got my eye on that apartment in the old district that's about to be demolished. Transfer it to me. I'll use it as my wedding house." I frowned. "That apartment is meant for your mother's retirement and your sister's education. Pick another development instead. I'll help cover the down payment." He slammed the table. "A down payment? That's nothing. "You want me to carry a mortgage at my age?" Then he looked me dead in the eye. "If you refuse to transfer the property, believe me, I'll make my mom divorce you." Instinctively, I turned to look at my wife beside me. But she only lowered her head in silence.

In the third year of my marriage, I endure a full day of painful labor to give birth to my first child. However, my husband steals the baby to give to his true love. I try my damnedest to stop him, but all I get is a barrage of insults. "It's just a baby! I'm the one who planted the seed, so I get to decide who gets the fruit!" I'm overwhelmed by grief as I watch my husband leave. However, he shares a happy post on his social media. "Mother and daughter are safe." His true love comments, "Thank you for giving me a child, Jaspie. I'll be the happiest woman in the world with you two by my side." Clueless friends bless them and wish them well. I silently comment, "Give me back my child." All I get is another round of insults. Then, I'm blocked. I don't want to endure this anymore. I hire a lawyer to draft divorce papers before making a police report. "Officer, I want to report my husband for child trafficking."

The day I gave birth, so did Lily Jasper—the underprivileged student I had been sponsoring. But her baby didn’t survive. Afterward, my husband, Carter Scott, insisted on making Lily my son’s godmother. From that moment on, she was everywhere—always butting into my parenting. Whether I was disciplining my son or buying him clothes, Lily never missed a chance to chime in with her opinions. Years later, when my son took his college entrance exams, I helped him choose a major that matched his scores. But Lily pushed hard for him to apply to Merika State or Haven State University instead. In the end, he listened to me and got into a suitable college. Then his acceptance letter came. And everything fell apart. That day, he caused a car accident. My accident. He stepped out of the car, walked over, and kicked me a few times as I lay helpless on the ground. His face was full of disgust as he spat, “You actually thought you were my mom?” His voice was cold. “You’ve made my real mom cry over and over because of you. “You were never family. My real parents and I—we’re family. You? You were just in the way. “But it's over now. Finally...” He smiled cruelly. “We can be together—the real family.” And in that moment, I finally understood. Lily didn’t lose her baby that day. She killed my newborn son and swapped him with hers. Everything went dark. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day I gave birth.