Adoption Scam in the Hospital Ward

The sharp scent of disinfectant pierced my nostrils as I lay on the mattress in the VIP ward, a hollow ache gnawing at my lower abdomen. This was my seventh miscarriage in five years of marriage—another fragile hope shattered. My fingertips grazed the cold bedsheet, tears silently tracing paths down my cheeks. After five years of marriage, all I had left was the agony of losing our children—nothing else. With a creak, the door to the ward was pushed open. Mario Green stepped in, cradling a pink bundle in his arms, his voice carefully soft: "Jessica, are you all right?" I looked toward the swaddled bundle; he held it out to me and said, "This child has suffered misfortune. His mother bled heavily during childbirth and died, leaving him all alone." The little one's eyes were closed, his tiny fists clenched tight, his cheeks plump and rosy. My fingertips had just brushed his face when he suddenly reached out and grabbed the hem of my clothes. That warm, tender touch felt like an electric current, filling the emptiness inside me: "I will raise him." Mario Green's eyes brightened: "That's wonderful! My brother was worried you wouldn't agree." That night, I got up intending to go to the study to ask Charles Green about the child's papers, but just as I reached the door, I overheard the conversation inside. Mario Green hesitated in his voice: "Brother, Jessica just had a miscarriage. Can she properly care for the child?" Charles Green gave a light, cold laugh: "She couldn't even keep her own child. Having one to raise will keep her in check, so she won't be pestering for children all day." "What about Ruby Xavier?" "Why the rush? Once the child grows attached to her, then I'll bring up the divorce." "She's old and unemployed, forced to leave empty-handed, and then Alan can return to us." "Alan? So that's the child between him and Ruby!" I felt ice crawl through my veins. I pushed open the door and demanded, "This child is yours and Ruby's? You lied to me about adopting him just to force me out empty-handed?" Charles Green panicked for a moment, then grew impatient: "So what if it is? We've been married for five years. What have you done besides miscarrying? Is it wrong for me to want a child?" "So you think that gives you the right to betray me?" I pointed to my lower abdomen. "Have you forgotten all the pain I endured to keep the child?" "Enough!" His tone was harsh. "Either you raise the child properly, or let's divorce now—and don't expect a single penny from me!" I wiped away my tears, my gaze resolute. "Fine, I will raise the child." But today's humiliation—I will repay it a hundredfold.