I tested it a few more times, then checked myself head to toe. It was certain: I had become Daniel’s illegitimate son—Ethan Brooks.
Soon, Margaret Brooks, my mother-in-law, came to stop me. Though she scolded me, her hands were gentle as she stroked my hair.
“Ethan, how could you treat your father this way? Don’t you know, when the accident happened, he saved you first—he didn’t even care about his own injuries?”
I looked up. Daniel’s head was wrapped in bandages, his left eye bruised, half a tooth chipped.
Yet those wretched in-laws were still lively and bossy, barking orders in the hospital room and pressing the call bell every few minutes.
I felt suffocated, anger and resentment boiling inside me. Where was my poor daughter?
I threw off the blanket, desperate to run, but my new body was too frail. Daniel easily pulled me back into bed.
“Ethan, where are you going? You’re not healed yet. The doctor said you might have a concussion. You can’t run around.”
“Let go of me!” I roared in fury. But in their eyes, I was just a frightened child throwing a tantrum.
“All right, all right. Don’t be afraid, Ethan. It was just a small accident. Come here, let Grandma hold you.”