The young woman in labor died during childbirth, leaving behind two twins: the doctor told the relatives about only one child, while the second, who was gravely ill, he took with him and raised as his own son
Eighteen years later, someone knocked on his door — and he froze on the threshold
The silence in the apartment had its own sound. For Professor Michael, an obstetrician with forty years of experience, it was the steady ticking of the old grandfather clock. It counted the years lived in solitude, broken only by the rustle of newspapers and the occasional cough of his son Alex from the next room.
That night he remembered in the smallest details. November, cold, outside the maternity ward windows rain pouring down and wind howling. In the delivery room, a nineteen-year-old girl named Emma was dying. She passed away, leaving behind two newborn boys.
They lay side by side. One — strong, pink, crying loudly. The other — tiny, bluish, almost silent. The diagnosis was merciless: the second boy had a severe congenital heart defect. Such children rarely lived even to their first birthday.
Michael went out to speak with Emma’s parents. In front of him stood her father and mother, pale, barely able to stay on their feet. The doctor realized he could not tell them the whole truth.
He said that only one grandson had been born. A healthy boy. And that the second had not survived.
He made that decision in a second, but it changed his entire life. He handled the paperwork himself. He used his name, his connections, his reputation.
The healthy boy, Daniel, was taken in by the grandparents. The second, nameless and doomed, Michael carried out of the hospital in his arms.
He named him Alex and began a long fight. Surgeries, sleepless nights, fear with every breath. He was not his biological son, but he became a real father. Alex survived.
Years passed. Alex grew up knowing only that his mother had died during childbirth. Michael remained silent about the past.
That evening they were at home when the doorbell rang. They were expecting no one. Michael immediately sensed that something was wrong.
He walked to the door. Nothing could be seen through the peephole — someone was covering it with a finger. His heart began to beat too fast. He turned the key and opened the door.
And froze at what he saw The continuation of the story can be found in the first comment
On the threshold stood a young man about eighteen years old. Tall, strong, with the same facial features as Alex. One glance was enough for Michael to understand everything.
— Is it you? — the stranger asked sharply. — Are you that doctor?
His voice trembled with anger.
— Yes, — Michael answered quietly. — Come in.
— Don’t speak to me like that, — the young man stepped forward. — You destroyed my family. You lied to my grandparents. All my life I thought I was an only child. And you simply took my brother away from me.
He spoke quickly, almost shouting.
— Do you understand what you did? — he continued. — I grew up without parents. Without a brother. And you played God.
Michael did not interrupt him. He knew he had no right to.
— And I want to know the truth, — the young man finally said.
Michael nodded silently.
— I will tell you, — he said at last. — But first, come with me.
Michael led him down the hallway. In the room, on the bed, lay Alex. He was sleeping, connected to machines, pale and exhausted.
Daniel stopped.
— This is… — he swallowed. — Is this him?
— Your brother, — Michael replied.
Daniel stepped closer slowly. He looked at him for a long time, carefully, as if afraid to blink and lose the feeling.
— Is he sick? — he asked more quietly.
— Since birth, — Michael said. — His heart. I didn’t even know if he would survive.
Daniel turned around. There was no anger left in his eyes.
— And you… you raised him?
— Yes, — Michael answered simply. — I couldn’t let him die. I only wanted to protect your family from another pain; they had already lost their daughter. I thought it would be better this way. I was wrong.
Silence filled the room. Then Alex stirred and opened his eyes.
— Dad… — he whispered hoarsely. — Who is that?
Daniel took a sharp breath. He walked to the bed and sat on the edge.
— I… — he hesitated. — I’m your brother.
Alex looked at him for a few seconds, then smiled weakly.
— Really?
— Yes, — Daniel’s voice trembled. — And I’m not going anywhere.
He leaned down and gently hugged Alex. Alex pressed against him, awkwardly but trustingly.
Michael turned away. A tear slowly rolled down his cheek — a tear he had not allowed himself for eighteen years.
