Only when I saw with my own eyes that my baby was safe in Aunt Clara's arms did my body finally give in. The adrenaline drained, and the anesthesia pulled me under once again.
Darkness.
...
"She's still asleep? Are you kidding me? What kind of woman sleeps this long after giving birth?"
"I don't know what's wrong with that crazy old nurse," another voice snapped. "She's clinging to my grandson like a lunatic. Won't even let me hold him."
Then came that all-too-familiar condescending whine.
"Paul, you don't think that old hag got tricked by that little tramp, do you? What if she's planning to snatch the baby and run now that her registration scheme failed?"
Paul let out a groan, clearly annoyed after losing another game on his phone.
"Will you give it a rest already? If you hadn't spent two hours screaming your head off at the nurse outside the delivery room, she wouldn't be suspicious to begin with. Just shut up already. She's starting to wake up. You want to blow everything right now? Think you can fix that mess?"
Eleanor's voice lowered to a hiss, but she kept going.
"I'm just saying that if she wakes up and remembers what the baby looks like, switching them out will be harder."