Betrayal. It Happened the Way You (Didn't) Want It To

She held her newborn son in her arms when her mother-in-law entered the ward. Anzhela Viktorovna didn’t congratulate her or even look at the grandson—she only coldly stated that she wasn’t going to take the child.
And this icy detachment hurt more than a slap.

The mother-in-law closed the door to the maternity room behind her and put a folder on the bedside table. A primal instinct was already screaming to the young mother—grab the baby and run. Run from this woman, from her dead-eyed stare, from the terrible thing that was about to happen.
But there was nowhere to run.

Anzhela Viktorovna calmly, almost indifferently, announced: Svyatoslav no longer wants to see her. Not her. Not this child. Her son had finally opened his eyes and realized who he’d tied his life to. Each word landed on her soul like a stone; the world lurched, and the walls seemed to sway before her eyes.

And then the mother-in-law pulled documents out of the folder. A DNA test. Black on white— the child was not Svyatoslav’s.