The Wrong Child

Our usually reliable nanny, Emma Spencer, called me three times in a row today, sounding completely panicked.

"Ma’am, something’s wrong. The kindergarten security won’t let Noah in, no matter what! They said the name that shows up when they scan the card doesn’t match. The card belongs to a kid named 'Gabriel', not our Noah at all!"

My hand paused over the report I was reviewing, my brows furrowing. "Emma, didn't my husband hand the card to you himself last night?"

On the other end, she sounded like she was about to cry. "Yes! But the scanner shows the name 'Gabriel Cooper'. The guard says we must have the wrong card and keeps questioning me!"

That didn’t make any sense.

To get Noah into the top-tier Starlight Bilingual Academy, I had pulled every string I could half a year ago and paid a $300,000 donation just to secure a spot.

For the past month, my husband, Scott Shaw, had been the one driving our son to school every day. This morning, he said he was busy and couldn’t take Noah, so Emma went instead.

So how did it suddenly turn into someone else’s school card the moment she took over?

I calmed Emma Spencer down and told her to wait at the entrance with Noah Shaw, then grabbed my keys and headed straight for the kindergarten.

When I arrived at the gates of Starlight Bilingual Academy, I took the access card from her. I held it up to the scanner.

"Beep! Pre-K Class 1, Gabriel Cooper."

A boy’s face popped up on the screen. It looked strangely familiar, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen him before. For some reason, a wave of unease crept over me.

I called Scott Shaw.

It rang for a while before he finally picked up. There was a lot of background noise on his end.

"Hey, honey? Why are you calling right now? I’m about to head into a meeting." Scott’s voice sounded as gentle as ever.

"Did you grab the wrong school card last night—the one you left by the door?" I asked casually, "Emma tried scanning it, and it showed a kid named Gabriel Cooper."

There was a brief pause on the other end. Then he let out an awkward chuckle. "Oh… that. On my way home yesterday, I gave a coworker a ride. It must’ve been her son’s card. He probably dropped it in my car, and I mixed them up."

His tone was full of self-blame. "Just have Emma take Noah home for the day and let him rest. I’ll go to the school office tomorrow and get him a replacement card."

"That’s fine. If we can’t find it, we’ll just get a new one. It’s only a few hundred dollars anyway," I said evenly.

"Don’t!" Scott’s voice suddenly shot up, sharp and jarring.

As if realizing he’d overreacted, he quickly softened his tone and coaxed me gently, "I mean, the school admin office is a nightmare. Replacing a card means ID checks, paperwork, fees… It’s a hassle.

"I’ll take a good look in the car tomorrow. I’ll definitely find Noah’s card. You’re busy with work, so don’t worry about something this trivial, okay?"

Thrown off by his interruption, I didn’t press further. I took Emma and Noah back home first.

However, the more I thought about it, the more something felt off.

So I picked up my tablet. Scott had a habit. His dashcam automatically synced to the cloud on the tablet.

I pulled up the footage from yesterday morning.

In the video, Scott first got into the car with Noah. Then the car stopped outside an old, run-down apartment complex.

A heavily made-up woman walked over, holding a young boy’s hand, and got into the car.

"Scotty, thanks for driving Gabriel again today," she said in a soft, sugary voice.

"Why so formal?" Scott smiled and patted the boy’s head. "Gabriel, be good at school today."

"Okay! Thanks, Dad!" the boy shouted brightly.