Never question a mother's intuition.

My water isn't supposed to break while there's a storm raging, when my husband isn't on the island, and as the power flickers out. Darkness covers the cabin as I cling to my belly. I never imagined it happening like this.

Trained as a midwife, I know I can deliver my daughter.

* * *

I look at her, and I see her — I've always known her.

She's perfect. Sweat and tears streak down my face as I kiss her over and over again. Reaching for my bag of midwifery supplies, I wipe her nose and press her tiny body to my chest.

I fall asleep with her in my arms.

* * *

When I wake, my husband is home, the lights are back on — but the baby he's holding — it's not mine.

I'm not crazy.

I gave birth to a girl, and that baby in his arms is a boy.

He's not my baby.

Please note this is a revised edition of The Midwife's Mistake. It contains themes of baby loss that some readers may find upsetting.

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