The babysitter noticed a birthmark behind the child's ear… and discovered it was the family's stolen child.

Chapter 4: The Confrontation in the Nursery

Lucía felt the blood drain entirely from her face, leaving her lightheaded and dizzy. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.

"Dear God..." she breathed, clutching the edge of the changing table to keep her knees from buckling.

Before she could process another thought, the heavy mahogany door flew open.

Beatriz stepped into the room. She moved silently, like a predator, her black dress sweeping across the floor. Her eyes immediately darted to Lucía, analyzing the nanny's pale, terrified complexion and her rigid posture.

"What did you see?" Beatriz demanded, her voice dropping to a dangerous, venomous hiss.

Lucía acted purely on survival instinct. Her hands, though trembling, moved swiftly to pull the blanket up, covering the baby's neck and head.

"Nothing, Madam," Lucía replied, forcing herself to look the woman in the eye. "Nothing at all."

Beatriz did not buy it. She took slow, measured steps toward the center of the room, her gaze fixed entirely on the nanny.

"I heard you speaking," Beatriz said, stopping just inches from Lucía. The scent of her heavy, expensive perfume was nauseating.

"I was just... speaking to the child. He shifted," Lucía lied, swallowing the thick lump of fear in her throat.

Beatriz’s eyes narrowed into terrifying slits. "I am not a fool, Lucía. Do not test my intelligence in my own home."

The nanny swallowed hard.

Beatriz leaned over the crib, looking down at the baby. The look on her face was deeply disturbing—it was a twisted, unnatural concoction of intense possessiveness and raw, paralyzing fear. There was no maternal warmth in her gaze, only the desperate look of a thief guarding stolen treasure.

"Let me make something perfectly clear to you," Beatriz whispered, her tone laced with absolute menace. "You are here to feed him, change his diapers, and put him to sleep. You are a ghost. You will not ask questions. You will not pry into family matters. If you do exactly as you are told, you will be paid very well. Do we understand each other?"

Lucía pressed her fingers so hard into the wood of the crib that her knuckles turned stark white. A righteous anger began to burn through her terror. This woman had stolen a child from a dying mother.

"Does Señor Rafael know the child is awake?" Lucía asked, her voice steadying.

Beatriz snapped her head up. Her gaze turned instantly lethal. "My husband knows exactly what he needs to know."

"But he lost his son..." Lucía pushed, unable to stop herself.

"We have all lost something in this life," Beatriz replied coldly, devoid of an ounce of empathy. "The world keeps spinning."

The callousness of the statement sent a chill down Lucía's spine. She slowly lifted her chin, meeting the monster's eyes. "Madam, who is this child, truly?"

Beatriz’s lips curled into a faint, sinister smile. "He is a child who will have a much better life if his nanny learns to keep her mouth permanently shut."