"Thank you, Uncle," Nathan responded politely, his voice calm and composed, as though he had long grown used to my cousin's blatant favoritism.

Beside Nathan, Rowan hesitated, fidgeting nervously. His thin fingers clutched the frayed edges of his shirt as he summoned the courage to speak. "Dad," he stammered, "tomorrow is my birthday too. Could you… could you get me a new pair of shoes?"

His words hung in the air, fragile and hopeful.

My gaze fell to Rowan's feet, clad in sandals so worn out that they barely held together. The thin straps had frayed and the soles were almost completely eroded. I remembered they were Nathan's discarded sandals from last year, passed down to Rowan when my cousin declared that Nathan deserved new things while Rowan was only fit for hand-me-downs. Those sandals had endured rain, heat and now the biting chill of winter, leaving Rowan's small feet covered in red chilblains.

The room fell silent for a beat, but the hope in Rowan's eyes was quickly extinguished. My cousin's expression contorted with fury and he exploded. "You filthy brat! You're only good for wearing trash!"

His voice thundered, filling the room. Without warning, he raised his hand and struck Rowan across the face. The sharp slap echoed, leaving a red imprint on the boy's pale cheek.

"A birthday? Do you think you deserve that?!" My cousin's words were venomous and with each syllable, his fists found their mark.

"Stop it, please! He's just a child!" Hana cried, rushing forward to intervene.

Even Nathan dropped his toy and grabbed his father's arm, pleading, "Uncle, don't hurt him! Please stop!"

Perhaps fearing that his outburst would upset Nathan further, my cousin dragged Rowan by the arm, hauling him out of the house. The door slammed shut behind them, cutting off the boy's faint cries of pain as the winter wind swallowed him.

***

The next morning was Rowan and Nathan's birthday. It should have been a day of joy, a double celebration of life. But when my cousin arrived at the door, bearing an extravagant cake and brightly wrapped gifts, only Nathan's name was on his lips.

Hana, noticing the absence of Rowan, furrowed her brows. "Where's Rowan? It's his birthday too. Why isn't he here?"

My cousin waved off her concern with a nonchalant chuckle, as though the question were absurd. "Oh, him? I broke his leg last night. He's still unconscious."

He delivered the news with such casual detachment that it took a moment for the weight of his words to sink in. Hana's eyes widened in horror. "You what?"

Ignoring her, my cousin strode inside and placed the cake and gifts on the table in front of Nathan, his face softening into an indulgent smile. "Nathan, my dear boy, today is your special day. I won't let anything ruin it for you."

Nathan hesitated, his small hands reaching for the gift but pausing as though conflicted. His sleeves slipped back slightly, revealing a faint cut on the back of his hand.

My cousin's expression darkened instantly. "What is this?" he demanded, grabbing Nathan's wrist to examine the injury.

"It's just a small scratch," Nathan murmured, pulling his hand back.

My cousin spun on me, his face a mask of outrage. "Jimmy, what the hell is wrong with you? How could you let Nathan hurt his hand?!"

I met his furious gaze with calm indifference. "It's normal for kids to get a few scrapes. Your son is covered in injuries all the time, isn't he?"

The room seemed to freeze. My cousin's face turned red with rage as my words sunk in. "How dare you compare that worthless brat to Nathan?" he snarled. "Nathan is—"

Realizing he was losing control, he stopped mid-sentence. He took a deep breath and smoothed his expression before continuing in a more measured tone. "What I mean is, Nathan has been raised with care and deserves better treatment than that useless kid of mine. You need to take better care of him!"

Hana, who had been quietly fuming, finally spoke up. "How dare you! If you hadn't beaten your son yesterday, leaving a mess of blood, Nathan wouldn't have been forced to clean it up and hurt himself!"

My cousin turned to Nathan, his face softening once more. "Nathan, is that true?"

Nathan nodded solemnly. "Yes, I just wanted to help out Mom and Dad."

His words moved my cousin. "Sometimes, you don't have to be so considerate. Leave the hard and dirty work to your dad. Your just need to enjoy life, got it?"

Nathan nodded quietly, but I could see the guilt flickering in his eyes.

My cousin busied himself with the preparations for Nathan's birthday celebration. He took over the kitchen, barking orders at Hana while arranging decorations. By the time everything was ready, the table was laden with food and the room glowed with festive lights.

After dinner, as the candles on the cake flickered, my cousin leaned forward, his voice full of eager anticipation. "Nathan, tell me, do you have any wishes? I will make them come true."

Nathan didn't hesitate. His young eyes sparkled with determination. "I want to get into Newman University!"

Hearing Nathan's response, my cousin beamed. He reached out and gently ruffled Nathan's hair. "I can't help you with that," he said, "but with your smarts, you'll get into Newman. I'm sure of it. And when that day comes, I've got a surprise for you. One you'll never forget!"

Nathan smiled politely. "Thank you, Uncle."

As I watched my cousin's face, overflowing with affection and pride, a faint smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

A surprise you'll never forget? Oh, dear cousin, I've been preparing one for you too—one that will stay with you for the rest of your life.

Every year on Nathan's birthday, my cousin's enthusiasm eclipsed even Hana's and mine. He would arrive with the most extravagant cakes, the most thoughtful gifts and the brightest smile. Meanwhile, my son—Rowan—faded into the background.

After my cousin broke Rowan's leg, the boy disappeared completely from my sight. Whenever Hana brought up his absence, her voice tinged with concern, my cousin would wave it off with a sneer. "Don't bring up that wretched creature. Just thinking about him makes me angry!"

I didn't argue. I simply watched as my cousin buried Rowan deeper into the shadows of neglect and abuse. Eighteen years passed like this—until the day Nathan's acceptance to Newman University became official.

***

The celebratory banquet was quite grand. My house was bathed in warm light, the fine linen tablecloths and elaborate floral arrangements setting the scene for a joyous occasion. Nathan, dressed in a tailored suit, stood beside me, receiving compliments with poise and humility. Hana's eyes sparkled with pride and even my usually reserved mother-in-law seemed unusually cheerful.

Halfway through the evening, the front door swung open with a resounding creak, drawing everyone's attention. My cousin entered, dressed impeccably, as always. But this time, he wasn't alone.

Trailing behind him was Rowan. His face was pale and gaunt, his body frail and hunched. A thick brace encased his leg, forcing him to limp awkwardly with every step. His head hung low, as if he were afraid to meet anyone's gaze.

The festive chatter in the hall came to a halt, replaced by a heavy silence.

With exaggerated solemnity, my cousin cleared his throat and pulled a folded document from his pocket. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice carrying across the room. "I hate to disrupt this joyous occasion, but I have something important to reveal."

He turned to me, extending the paper. His eyes, glistening with what appeared to be tears, locked onto mine. "Jimmy," he began, his tone filled with mock sincerity, "Rowan has been unwell, so I took him to the hospital for a thorough check-up. While we were there, we discovered that… Rowan isn't my biological son."

Gasps rippled through the room.

He continued, his voice thick with emotion, "Eighteen years ago, there was a mistake. The hospital accidentally switched our babies. Rowan is your child and Nathan is mine."

A tear slipped down his cheek as he turned to Nathan, his expression a mixture of love and regret. "After all these years, the truth has been revealed. It's time to set things right and switch our kids."

For added effect, he choked back a sob, casting himself as the victim of a cruel twist of fate.

The room erupted into chaos.

"Jimmy and Hana raised Nathan as their own and now they're just supposed to give him up?"

"Eighteen years of effort, love and sacrifices—gone just because of a piece of paper?"

"It's ridiculous! Nathan's success is thanks to Jimmy. Without him, he'd never have gotten into Newman University!"

"Exactly! No one would put up with that."

One was a promising student, destined for greatness. The other, a frail and disabled young man who could barely walk. The choice was obvious.

Yet, amidst the clamor, I remained calm. "Alright," I said, "if there was a mistake, then it must be corrected."

My words silenced the room.

Even my cousin's eyes widened in shock, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he couldn't decide whether to smile or remain serious. "Y-you agree?" he stammered, clearly unprepared for my cooperation.

Hana, however, was not as composed. She turned to me, her voice trembling with disbelief. "Jimmy, have you lost your mind? How can you just hand Nathan over because of a claim and a paternity test we don't even know is real?"

My mother-in-law added her voice to the protest, clutching her pearls as if the situation were physically painful. "She's right, Jimmy! This is madness. You've raised Nathan for eighteen years. You're just going to let him go without a fight?"

Ignoring their pleas, I met their eyes with unyielding resolve. "Nathan is his child. Back then, I saw the babies being swapped with my own eyes."

The collective gasp that followed was deafening.

Hana's face turned pale and she stumbled back a step, her hands trembling. "That's impossible," she whispered. Her voice grew louder as her emotions surged. "On the way to the hospital for my delivery, we were in a car accident! You had shards of glass piercing your stomach and were bleeding heavily. Despite your injuries, you carried me to the hospital. The doctors said you'd suffered critical organ damage and severe blood loss. They said you were moments from death! And yet…"

Her voice broke, tears streaming down her face. "And yet you just smiled and said that I and the baby were more important than your own life. That as long as we were safe, nothing else mattered."

"You cared so much about our child! How could you stand by and watch him suffer? You're lying!" Hana's eyes flashed with anger.

I met her gaze, my voice steady. "When the doctor brought him to me, I noticed a small, red heart-shaped birthmark on his waist. If you want proof, check it now."

My mother-in-law, her curiosity piqued, lifted Rowan's shirt. The moment Hana saw the telltale heart-shaped birthmark, her eyes widened in shock. A deafening silence filled the room. Then, her hand, trembling with rage, connected with my cheek.

"Jimmy, are you even human?" she roared, her voice filled with disbelief and anger. "If you knew all along, why didn't you stop this? Why did you let our son—our baby—endure years of hell because of your cousin?"

Her eyes glistened with tears that fell in rivulets down her flushed cheeks. Her body shook with the force of her emotions, her hands clenched tightly at her sides as if barely holding herself back from striking me again.

The room erupted into chaos.

Relatives, once seated at tables enjoying the celebration, now stood in clusters, their faces a mix of shock, anger and revulsion.

"Has Jimmy lost his mind? That's his own flesh and blood! How could he let his child be mistreated for years without lifting a finger?" one voice spat, filled with disgust.

"You're a monster! He's your son and you just let it happen?" cried another.

"Hana, divorce him right now! A man like that doesn't deserve a family!"

The accusations came fast and unrelenting, each one a hammer blow against my character.

Even Rowan, my frail and quiet son, found his voice. He stood trembling, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Tears streamed down his pale face as he screamed, "I hate you! A man like you is not my father!"

Before anyone could stop him, Rowan spun on his heels and dashed toward the nearby window. His thin frame, so often hunched under the weight of fear and pain, now moved with alarming speed.

"Rowan, no!" Hana shrieked, her voice breaking with desperation.

But it was too late. Rowan threw himself through the open window, the sound of shattering glass cutting through the din like a knife. The collective gasp that followed seemed to suck the air out of the room.

A sickening thud echoed from below.

The hall descended into stunned silence. For a moment, time itself seemed to freeze. Then, chaos erupted. Relatives rushed toward the window, their faces contorted in shock and horror.

Hana stood paralyzed, her body trembling uncontrollably. Then, with a guttural cry that tore through the air, she broke free from her stupor and bolted for the stairs.

I remained where I stood, my face emotionless, my breathing steady despite the turmoil. Slowly, I reached into my pocket, retrieving my phone. With deliberate calm, I dialed the police.

"Hello," I said, my voice low and even. "I'd like to report an incident. My son jumped out of a window in an apparent suicide."

The words hung in the air like a death knell as I ended the call.

***

Outside, the scene was pandemonium. A crowd had gathered around Rowan's broken body, which lay in a pool of blood. Hana knelt beside him, clutching his lifeless form and wailing inconsolably. Her cries reverberated through the air, piercing the hearts of everyone present.

Relatives stood in a tight circle, some sobbing quietly, others murmuring prayers or staring in stunned disbelief. Vendors from nearby stalls craned their necks, trying to glimpse the tragedy unfolding.

As I approached, the crowd turned as one, their eyes locking onto me.

"You murderer!" someone shouted, their voice thick with venom.

"How dare you show your face here?" cried another. "If it weren't for you, Rowan wouldn't have died like this!"