My husband was away on a business trip, but when I visited my in-laws, I was shocked to see baby diapers hanging all over the garden.

My husband announced that he would be going to England for a week on business. He urged me to stay home and rest, saying there was no need to visit his parents in the countryside. But that day, my gut told me otherwise. So I took the bus and decided to surprise my in-laws.

As I walked through the gate, I didn’t notice my mother-in-law’s warm smile or my father-in-law’s slim figure sweeping the yard. What stopped me in my tracks was the sight of a whole row of baby diapers hanging on clotheslines. Some had yellow stains, others traces of milk.

I stood there rooted to the spot, unable to move. My in-laws were well over sixty—far too old to have a baby. None of our relatives had left a child with them either. So whose diapers were these? Trembling, I entered the house. It was unusually quiet, but there was a faint scent of baby food in the air. A half-full baby bottle sat on the table. My chest tightened, thoughts swirling in my head. Was my husband hiding something from me?

Then, from the old bedroom my husband and I always used during our visits, came the sound of a baby crying. I rushed there, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the lock. As soon as the door swung open, I saw a newborn on the bed, kicking its tiny arms and legs, while my mother-in-law hurriedly changed its clothes.

She paled at the sight of me, as if the blood had drained from her face. I stammered,

—Mommy…whose baby is this?

“` Her hands trembled, her gaze flickered away, and she whispered softly:

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