Chapter 2
By the time the private jet landed, it was already late at night.
The Andrews mansion was lit up.
Two rows of staff lined the entrance, led by Otis Davidson, the family butler, who hurried forward to greet Sidney.
"Ms. Andrews, you're finally back," Otis said, his eyes teary.
He continued, "Mr. Andrews has been searching for you every single day over the past three years."
I stayed silent, holding Sidney in my arms as I walked into the grand hall.
Alan Andrews, my grandfather, was sitting in a chair, holding a rosary in his hand.
The moment he saw me, the rosary slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.
"Elena," he called out.
Alan tried to stand up, only to sit back down. He repeated this twice, unable to steady himself in the end.
I walked over to him. "Grandpa, I'm back."
He reached out with a trembling hand and brushed my cheek.
"You've lost weight," he whispered.
He barely got those words out before his tears started falling.
Over eighty members of the Andrews family and more than three hundred staff filled the room, and not a single eye was dry.
Sidney was snuggled up in Otis's arms, his head cocked as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings.
Alan looked at him.
"Who is this?" he asked.
"Your great-grandson, Sidney Garrett," I replied.
I paused for a moment.
"Or Sidney Andrews, from now on," I added.
Alan reached out and took Sidney into his arms. Sidney didn't shy away. He wrapped his arms around Alan's neck and called out, "Great-grandpa."
Otis had taught him to say it.
Alan smiled, even as tears still streaked his face.
He said the word "good" three times in a row, then looked back at me.
"I've heard everything about the Garrett family," Alan said.
I didn't say anything.
Alan's tone changed.
"A baby-swapping scam pulled on a member of my family? How dare they?" he snapped.
"Grandpa," I said.
"Don't worry. I'll settle the score for you," Alan said.
I shook my head.
"You don't need to get involved," I said.
"I'll handle this myself," I added.
Alan looked into my eyes, silent for a few seconds.
Then he smiled.
"Good. That's what it means to be an Andrews," he said.
He patted the armrest.
"Tomorrow, you'll attend the board meeting," he said.
"Okay," I replied.
That night, Sidney settled into his enormous 2000-square-foot bedroom.
The room had been prepared three years ago.
The walls were covered in starry sky murals, and a row of unopened toys lined the bed.
Alan had never stopped believing I would come home, so he had prepared the room for my child long in advance.
I closed the bedroom door and walked into the study.
There was a hefty pile of paperwork sitting on the desk.
On top was the latest report from Andrews Group.
The second one was from Garrett Group.
The third document was a DNA test report.
I flipped it open.
It read: [Shane Garrett's birth mother is Gloria Ramirez.
[Leila Garrett's birth mother is Gloria Ramirez.
[Sidney Garrett's birth mother is Elena Andrews.]
It was all there in black and white.
Out of the three kids, only Sidney was actually mine.
The other two? They were Gloria's children.
I was in a car crash while giving birth seven years ago. When I woke up, three babies lay beside me.
The Garretts told me the oldest two were mine, and the youngest was an unexpected surprise.
It was all a lie.
The oldest two were the real surprise.
They were Gloria and Derek's children, slipped in with mine while I was unconscious.
I closed the report.
My phone buzzed again.
Derek sent a message: [Sidney's clothes are still here. Do you want me to send them?]
I replied: [No.]
Derek: [Stop being ridiculous, Elena. How are you going to survive with a child?]
I blocked him.
In three years of marriage, he never once learned who the woman he thought would fall apart without the Garrett family really was.