My 10-year-old stared at the newborn and softly said, “Mom… we can’t bring this baby home.” Confused, I asked her why. Her hands trembled as she handed me her phone. “You need to see this,” she said. The second I looked at the screen, my knees almost gave way.

The hospital room carried the faint scent of disinfectant, mixed with the soft, powdery aroma of newborn lotion. Sarah held her hours-old daughter close, feeling each delicate breath and the light weight of her tiny body. Beside her, her husband Mark looked drained but happy, taking pictures with his phone to share with family.

Their 10-year-old daughter, Emily, stood silently near the window, her phone clutched tightly in both hands. She had begged to come, eager to meet her baby sister. Sarah had expected excitement—questions, giggles, maybe even a bit of jealousy. But instead, Emily’s hands trembled as she lowered her phone and whispered, almost too quietly to hear:

“Mom… we can’t bring this baby home.”

Sarah turned to her, startled. “What? Emily, what do you mean?”

With watery eyes, Emily held out her phone. “Please… just look.”

A jolt of unease ran through Sarah as she took the phone. On the screen was a photo—a newborn wrapped in a pink blanket, lying in a hospital bassinet identical to the one her daughter had been in earlier. The ID bracelet on the baby’s wrist read: Olivia Grace Walker. Same name. Same hospital. Same birth date.

Sarah’s legs nearly gave out. “What… is this?”

“I saw the nurse upload pictures to the hospital’s app,” Emily whispered, voice shaking. “But that’s not her. That’s a different baby. And they have the same name.”

Sarah looked down at the baby in her arms, who let out a soft sigh, unaware of the growing tension. Panic began to rise in her chest. Two newborns. Same name. Same place. Same day.

Mark leaned over to see the phone and frowned. “It’s probably a data entry error. A glitch in the system.”

But Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She remembered that brief time after delivery when the baby was taken away for routine checks. Had it really only been a few minutes?

Her arms tightened protectively around Olivia. What if there had been a mix-up? What if… this wasn’t her baby?

Turning to Mark, her voice shook. “We need answers. Now.”

Later, when Sarah questioned the nurse on duty, a cheerful woman named Linda, she was met with reassurance. “It’s just a clerical thing,” Linda said with a smile. “Happens sometimes with similar names in the system.”

But Sarah wasn’t convinced. “I want to see the records. Was another baby named Olivia Grace Walker born here today?”