The Gothic Switch Chapter 1

My husband’s cousin switched my daughter with her own while I was in a delirium after childbirth.

So I waited until she was sleeping soundly, high on her triumph, and I switched them right back.

Day after day, she tormented her own child while showering mine with every affection she could muster.

I would watch and wipe my tears. What a human tragedy.

She deserved it.

* * *

The day my daughter was born, I was up all night, engrossed in a gothic novel about a changeling. Just as I reached the most thrilling, heart-pounding part, my water broke.

I grabbed the arm of my handmaid, Ruby, and said with a tremor in my voice, "Watch my baby! Don't let anyone switch them!"

The labor was brutal. The entire wing of the house was in chaos. The pain was so intense I blacked out, but just before I did, I heard another maid shouting, "Sir! Sir! It's Miss Lillian, she's in labor too! You must go to her!"

I reached out, grabbing for my husband, Brayton. "Don't go..."

I clung to his sleeve, but he pried my fingers off, one by one. His voice was soft, yet unyielding. "I have to go to Lillian. She’s delicate, not resilient like you are."

The pain consumed me, and I fainted.

When I next opened my eyes, Ruby was kneeling by my bed, sobbing. "My lady, they've taken the young miss! She's been switched!"

"What?!"

I whipped my head around to look at the novel on my bedside table.

The story I had just been reading… was now my own.