– “You Must Give Us the Child. We Are His True Parents,” Said the Strangers at the Door

**Diary Entry 12th October**

The knock at the door came just as I was finishing supper. Two strangers stood on the doorstep, their faces tight with something between hope and dread.

*”You need to give us our child,”* the man said. *”We’re his real parents.”*

My stomach dropped.

Behind me, Jamie shuffled into the hallway, clutching his school jumper. *”Mum, can I stay home tomorrow? My head hurts again.”*

I turned from the stove, where Id been stirring a pot of soup. Jamie *did* look paledark circles under his eyes, his usual energy sapped.

*”Again? Thats the third time this week,”* I said, pressing a hand to his forehead. No fever. But something was off. He used to be restless, always buzzing about, but lately, hed just sit by the window, staring.

*”Just tired,”* he muttered, scuffing his trainer against the floor.

*”Well see in the morning. Go finish your homework.”*

*”Already done it.”*

*”All of it? Even maths?”*

*”Even maths.”*

I frowned. Later, when David got home from his shift, I told him. He rubbed his temples. *”Maybe hes got a crush? Kids that age”*

*”Hes eight, David.”*

*”Still. Could be anything.”*

But that night, I heard Jamie murmuring in his sleep. When I checked on him, his eyes fluttered open.

*”Mum do you love me?”*

*”Of course I do. More than anything.”*

*”Even if if Im not really yours?”*

The words hit like a punch.

*”Jamie, what?”*

He rolled over before I could finish.

The next morning, he bolted out the door before I could question him further. Then, at three, *they* arrivedthe strangers. The man, Richard, had documents. DNA tests. Hospital records.

*”There was a mix-up at the maternity ward,”* he said. *”Eight years ago. The boys were switched.”*

I nearly collapsed. *”Thats impossible.”*

*”We didnt believe it either,”* the woman, Claire, whispered. *”But our sonthe boy we raisedhe needed a blood transfusion. The tests showed he wasnt ours. We traced it back. To Jamie.”*

*”You *stalked* him?”* David snarled.

*”We had to know.”*

Then Jamie came home. He looked at themreally lookedand said, *”Youre them, arent you? My real parents.”*

My heart shattered.

*”I *knew*,”* he said quietly. *”I dont look like you, Mum. Or Dad. But I look like *them*.”*

Claire burst into tears. Richard cleared his throat. *”Were not here to take him. Just to know him. And maybe you could know our boy, too. Ethan.”*

Jamies face lit up. *”Can I meet him?”*

David gripped the table. *”Absolutely not.”*

But Jamiebless himjust tilted his head. *”Why not? Its not his fault. Or mine. And if weve got two families who love us isnt that good?”*

Later, after they left, we sat in silence.

*”What do we do?”* I asked David.

He rubbed his face. *”We let him meet Ethan. For Jamies sake.”*

The next morning, Jamie hugged me tight. *”Itll be okay, Mum. Loves not just blood, yeah? Its everything else.”*

I dialled Claires number.

*”Lets meet. All of us. This Saturday, Hyde Park, by the fountain.”*

She sobbed down the line. *”Thank you.”*

Jamie beamed. *”See? Told you.”*

I wish I had his certainty.

But if theres one thing Ive learned, its this: love isnt about who gave him life. Its about whos there for every scraped knee, every nightmare, every quiet moment in between.

And no piece of paper can change that.