My son hated school, so I gave him a good beating.

He cried and shouted that he wanted to find his real mom. "My mom's name is Natalia! You're not my real mom!"

Natalia was my best friend.

I didn’t get angry. Instead, I smiled and slapped him again.

Later, Natalia’s son died because of her neglect. She came running to me, holding an urn and crying as she apologized. She told me our sons had been switched at birth and now wanted to swap them back.

I showed no trace of sorrow on my face. Smiling, I accepted the urn. "Sure."

...

"I don’t want to go to school! I want to stay home, play games, and eat snacks!" Nathan kicked his backpack away and clung to his tablet like it was his lifeline. He was small for his age but already averse to studying.

A group of maids surrounded him, trying to persuade and comfort him. I waved them away and gestured for Nathan to come closer.

Without warning I smacked his cheek. At that moment, he was stunned, staring at me with mouth agape.

When he came to his senses, he started bawling uncontrollably. "It hurts! You're not my mom! My mom's name is Natalia. She would never treat me like this, you mean tigress! Why did you hit me?"

I clicked my tongue. Natalia was my best friend.

Upon hearing that, my husband, Rafael, slammed his cutlery down and stood up in anger. He walked over, ready to teach Nathan a lesson.

"How dare you talk to your mom like that?" Rafael growled, but Nathan didn’t care. He kicked and screamed on the floor.

Natalia, who had been watching, was heartbroken. She hurried over, calling him her precious baby, and pulled Nathan into her arms to comfort him.

In truth, Nathan wasn’t even crying. He could only squeeze out a tear or two after being comforted.

"Catherine, Nathan is already such a good boy. It’s fine if he doesn’t go to school," she gently said. "Kids shouldn’t be hit. No matter what, he’s better than Casimir, isn’t he?"

Casimir was Natalia’s son.

After Nathan started hating school, Natalia stopped sending Casimir as well, in the name of fairness.

Now, Casimir stood off to the side, scrawny and timid, his posture shrinking in on itself. Even though he was born around the same time as Nathan, he looked years younger.

At the mention of his name, Casimir flinched violently.

Natalia didn’t even glance at him. Instead, she lovingly stroked Nathan’s soft cheeks.

"Nathan is the best—so handsome." Natalia smiled. "Catherine, you really know how to raise kids."

I didn’t respond, but she wasn’t wrong. From the day Nathan was born, he had everything he could ever want.

His living conditions were more luxurious than the standards of a pampered princess.

I had spent a fortune turning him into the little tyrant he was today. After all, how could I waste the effort Natalia put into swapping our children on the day they were born?

In the end, Nathan still didn’t go to school.

I stopped bothering him and left Natalia to dote on him.

That night, before bed, I suddenly said, "I think Natalia is better at raising kids. Why don’t we let her take Nathan back?"

Rafael stiffened beside me. "What are you saying? That woman can’t even raise her own son properly—just look at Casimir!"

Not satisfied, he went on a rant, listing all of Natalia’s shortcomings.

"I was just joking. Why are you so worked up?" I replied, amused. That shut him up.

He rolled over and pretended to fall asleep. But Rafael wasn’t wrong. Natalia couldn’t raise kids. Her son had been given a degrading name and treated worse than a stray dog.

She doted on my son as if her life depended on it, but her own? She wouldn’t even blink if he died.

I still remember when Casimir was in kindergarten.

One time, Natalia and I went shopping. When Casimir glanced longingly at a toy, Natalia mercilessly reprimanded him.

"You little brat! You think you deserve to play with toys like these?"

In the end, it was Nathan who stepped in to comfort her. Natalia’s anger immediately melted into joy. She smiled and praised Nathan for being so sensible.

Afterward, Natalia bought a pile of imported toys for Nathan.

There were countless similar incidents.

For example, two years ago, Nathan had frequent nightmares that wouldn’t go away. Natalia scoured for remedies, even climbing mountains to consult a Buddhist monk. But when it came to her own son, who had a 40-degree fever, she didn’t even spare him a glance.

She brushed it off, saying, “A fever is just a sign he’ll grow taller.”

Of course, everyone knew the real reason behind her attitude. In the end, it was the neighbors who took Casimir to the hospital.

When someone criticized her, Natalia didn’t care. "Casimir has a wretched life, and whatever happens to him is just his fate."

The next morning, Natalia showed up again.

In the freezing cold of December, she left Casimir at the doorstep.

She sternly instructed everyone not to pity him. Then, she cozied up inside our warm house.

From downstairs, I watched Casimir curl up into a ball by the door, like a small, pitiful animal.

In the end, I couldn’t bear it. I had the housekeeper secretly bring him a blanket, making sure to retrieve it before Natalia left.

Natalia knew my house well. After all, she was the daughter of my family’s former maid. We grew up together. When her mother passed away, I didn’t mind supporting her.

So, without a job, her daily pastime became visiting Nathan.

In the kitchen, my mom was cooking soup.

Natalia leaned over, sweetly calling her “Auntie,” poking her head around to peek.

"Your cooking is amazing! I might just start calling you Mom."

I couldn’t help but snort at her flattery.

My mom, ever stoic, treated Natalia with cold indifference. But Natalia pretended not to notice and continued showering her with affection as if my mom were her own mother.

During lunch, Natalia finally let Casimir come inside. But she wouldn’t let him sit at the table.

Instead, she made him stand with a bowl in his hands, forbidding him from touching the dishes.

"Today’s food is all Nathan’s favorites. You eat less," Natalia said, glancing at Casimir dismissively.

I frowned. "Kids need to eat some meat."

Natalia shrugged. "Who said he can’t eat? Look—"

She pointed to the floor, where a piece of meat Nathan had dropped lay.

"Go ahead, pick it up if you want it," she ordered.

At her command, Casimir quickly snatched the meat and stuffed it into his mouth.

After swallowing, he even licked his fingers, savoring the taste.

Natalia smirked strangely. "Keep your eyes wide open. Whatever falls is yours."

After lunch, Natalia headed to a beauty salon.

My mom and I sat in the living room, watching TV.

Out of nowhere, my mom said coldly,

"When are you planning to send that thing back?"

The “thing” she referred to was Nathan. I told my mom about the baby swap later on. Because of this, her attitude toward Natalia became even frostier.

I smiled faintly. "No rush."

Suddenly, my phone buzzed.

In the parents’ group chat, the teacher announced an upcoming parent-teacher meeting. I didn’t feel like attending, so I passed it off to Natalia.

She agreed in seconds.

Once that was settled, I didn’t give it another thought.

Who would’ve guessed what happened next?

As I later heard from someone else, during the meeting, Nathan was inevitably criticized.

Natalia, furious, stormed up to the teacher to argue.

"Nathan just got a question wrong! He didn’t commit a crime! How dare you scold him?"

The teacher, rubbing her temples, tried to explain,

"I wasn’t scolding him. I was simply discussing Nathan’s performance with you—"

Natalia cut her off, hands on her hips, nearly jabbing her finger into the teacher’s face.

"Don’t give me that! You call yourself a teacher? Watch out, or I’ll report you!" she snarled.

In the end, the teacher gave up, throwing up her hands in surrender.

Natalia proudly declared victory. She had fought for Nathan and won.

As for Casimir, although Natalia often berated him, his academic performance wasn’t bad. However, when he excitedly presented several awards to Natalia, she tore them into shreds right in front of him.

His face turned pale with fear.

"Getting a few awards makes you so smug, huh? No matter how hard you try, you’re still trash!" she snarled.

Natalia never held back her insults toward Casimir.

I figured it was because, in her eyes, Casimir was my son, and she truly hated me.

Her relentless spoiling of Nathan only made him despise me more. But since I controlled the family’s finances, Nathan was still afraid of me.

On the surface, he didn’t dare act out, but behind my back, his rebellion knew no bounds.

Meanwhile, under Natalia’s relentless oppression, Casimir grew increasingly twisted.

Time flew, and the boys reached high school.

One day, the driver brought them home. Nathan’s clothes were wrinkled, and there was a faint bruise at the corner of his mouth. But Casimir looked far worse—his face was bruised and swollen, and his arm was cut.

Natalia, her eyes red with worry, rushed to Nathan. "Nathan, you’re hurt! Does it hurt? Are you okay?"

Then, without a second thought, she kicked Casimir several times. "You worthless brat! Didn’t I tell you to protect Nathan? If you can’t fight, at least take the hits for him!"

Natalia had purposely arranged for the two boys to be in the same class so Casimir could look after Nathan.

Casimir endured the blows silently, gritting his teeth without uttering a sound.

I finally stepped in to stop her violent outburst.

After some questioning, I learned what had happened.

Nathan had been provoked by the school bully. Unable to control his temper, he attacked the bully first.

But he couldn’t win, and it was Casimir who took most of the beating on his behalf.

The more Nathan explained, the more embarrassed he became.

When Natalia learned the truth, she merely snorted coldly. "He should take the hits for Nathan—it’s an honor for him!"

Then she turned back to Nathan, anxiously fussing over him. "Nathan, are you sure you’re okay? Does anywhere hurt? Should we go to the hospital just to be safe?"

Her overly dramatic concern made me scoff.

"With injuries this minor, they’ll heal before you even get to the hospital," I spat coldly.

Natalia glared at me. "How can you say that? Isn’t he still your son?"

Ah, but he wasn’t really my son.

Seeing my lack of reaction, Natalia froze, as if realizing she’d misspoken. "Uh, that’s not what I meant. I just think, what if he’s got internal injuries—"

Before she could finish, Casimir, who was curled up on the floor, finally snapped.

His voice was dry, tinged with anger. "Mom, I took the beating for Nathan. Why is it that you never care about me?"

Both Natalia and I were stunned.

I had assumed the years of abuse had broken his spirit entirely.

Casimir’s words seemed to strike a nerve in Natalia. She slammed her high heel into his chest without mercy. "How dare you talk back to me? You deserve to be beaten, you worthless scum! Why would I care about you when I have Nathan?"

Natalia didn’t stop until the tip of her red high heel was smeared dark with blood.

Breathing heavily, she finally stepped back.

She turned to me, smiling awkwardly. "I’m so sorry, Catherine. What a mess—you must think it’s a joke."

But Casimir wasn’t conscious anymore.

Regardless of whether he was my biological son or not, there was no way I could watch him die.

In the end, both Nathan and Casimir were taken to the hospital.

Most of the medical staff focused on saving Casimir.

His shirt was cut open, revealing his painfully thin frame. His ribs were visible even as he lay there. His emaciated body was covered in layers of old and new wounds, barely leaving any unscarred flesh.