'Are both little ones healthy?'
Patricia gently touched the baby's tiny hand, overjoyed. 'Is this the older brother?'
'Yes, ma'am, perfectly healthy.'
The doctor smiled warmly. 'That's correct, this is the older brother.'
The older brother had let out two cries right after being born, keeping his little brows furrowed as if he were quite displeased.
'Wonderful, wonderful.'
Patricia beamed with pride, then looked at the other swaddled bundle, her eyes widening in surprise. 'And this must be the younger brother, right? His face looks a bit more delicate than his brother's.'
In his delicate features, she could faintly trace Lottie's shadow.
It was perfect.
One looked like the father, the other like the mother.
If only it were a daughter, it would be a dream come true.
'Younger brother?'
Hearing the older woman's words, the two doctors froze momentarily before correcting her earnestly. 'Ma'am, this is a little sister.'
A sister?
The moment those words were spoken, Robert, Emily, and Kenneth all froze completely.
Weren't they supposed to be two boys?
How did one suddenly turn into a sister?
Did they mix up the babies?
Inside the VIP ward.
As the anesthesia wore off, Charlotte slowly regained her senses, heavily lifting her exhausted eyelids.
The first thing she saw was the man's pale, intensely anxious face hovering over her.
'You're awake?' Anthony leaned in, staring at his young wife with deep concern. 'Are you thirsty? Hungry?' he asked hoarsely.
'Does anything hurt? Should I call the doctor?'
Charlotte shook her head. From the corner of her eye, she noticed his injured hand and frowned slightly. 'What happened to your hand?' she rasped.
'It's nothing.'
Anthony dismissed it entirely. He cupped the girl's face in his hands, resting his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged. 'We are never having kids again.'

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