The Day My Past Life Died

I had been Mrs. Sterling, living a life of splendor, for thirty years.

Our marriage was filled with love, our home bustling with children and grandchildren; I had no regrets.

But on my deathbed, my husband gripped my hand and confessed:

"Actually, Lucas isn't your biological son."

"He's mine and Sophia's. We swapped the babies back then, and as for our child, yours and mine, he died long ago."

My mind went blank. I stared numbly at the son who was wiping my hands and feet by my side.

He didn't even lift his head, but his cold voice pierced my ears like a knife: