Gabriela picked the pink plastic bracelet out of the box.

“Why would your mother ask that?” I demanded into the phone.

“Because,” Isabela sobbed, “she said there might have been a deliberate mix-up with the newborn records the night our children were born.”

Gabriela turned the bracelet over.

The outer label read Arabella Cabrera. But beneath it, partly peeled back as though someone had tried to scrape it off in a hurry, was a second hospital label.

It read: Infant Female Fairfax/Marchand. Isabela let out a ragged sob over the line.