The call came at 6:12 a.m., just as Ajay was making his first cup of salabat tea.
The unknown number and the nurse’s grave voice froze him for a moment.
Ajay nearly dropped his mug.
“There must be a mistake,” he stammered. “I… I don’t have a wife.”
But the nurse firmly repeated his full name, birthdate, and PhilSys ID.
Everything matched. Something inside him insisted that hanging up wasn’t an option.
Despite every logical protest in his mind, he grabbed his keys and headed for his car, heart pounding.
On the drive, what disturbed him most wasn’t the confusion—
but the possibility that some woman, a complete stranger, might be in danger and needed help.
If that was true, he couldn’t abandon her.
When he arrived at St. Joseph Medical Center in Quezon City, the neonatal ward was wrapped in that heavy silence where both life and death begin. A doctor looked at him with the seriousness of someone who had been waiting.
“Mr. Sharma, thank you for coming so quickly. The patient, Marina Mejia, came in active labor. She was alone. She listed you as the child’s father.”
The doctor showed him the file.
“You’re recorded as her emergency contact.”
Ajay swallowed.
“I don’t recognize the name at all.”
“Doctor,” he said, his voice steady but trembling, “first of all… is she alright?”
“She’s stable,” the doctor answered, “but the situation is delicate. The baby is in the incubator.”
Ajay took a deep breath. If someone’s life was involved and his name was tied to it, he couldn’t turn away—not even if he had no idea how this had happened.
Then he said the words that would change everything:
“From now on, consider me her husband. Put all the bills under my name. I want to help however I can.”
The doctor studied him for a few seconds, surprised by his resolve, then nodded.
“Come with me. There’s something you need to see.”
They walked briskly into a dimly lit room. Behind the glass, a young woman lay exhausted and in deep sleep.
And when Ajay saw her face, his world stopped.
Because even though he had never met her in person, he recognized her instantly.
She was the same woman who had tried reaching out to him two months earlier—
the message he had ignored, thinking it was spam.
And now there was a baby, wrong information on the documents, and a silence demanding answers.
The doctor asked him to wait in a small room while she spoke with the medical team.
Ajay sat alone, breathing as if the air had turned heavy.
His mind drifted back to the message he had dismissed:
“I need to talk to you. It’s important. It’s connected to something from your past.”
No details. He had deleted it without thinking.
Now, seeing her and the struggling infant, guilt burned through him.
The doctor returned, face serious.
“Mr. Sharma, we need to clarify some things.” She sat down across from him.
“The patient arrived extremely disoriented. Labor was intense. She only managed to say her name and yours. No ID, just a small bag. Her mental state is fragile. It’s possible she’s running from someone.”
A chill ran down Ajay’s back.
“What did the police say?”
“We haven’t contacted them yet. We wanted to speak with you first. There are no signs of recent physical assault, but long-term stress is evident.”
“Can I speak to her?”
“When she wakes up. She needs rest for now.”
Ajay nodded, grateful for even that small pause.
But then the doctor added something that shocked him:
“Before she lost consciousness, she repeated several times that only you were allowed near the baby.”
Ajay pressed his palm to his forehead.
“Doctor… may I see the child?”
After a moment of thought, she led him to the neonatal ward.
Amid the soft hum of machines, one incubator bore a temporary label:
“Baby Mejia–Sharma.”
The name tore into him.
Inside lay a tiny, fragile infant wrapped in wires and sensors, pink-skinned and restless.
Ajay placed his hand on the glass and felt an unexpected surge of protectiveness.
This wasn’t his child… or could it be?
The thought shook him. He had never met Marina. They had no connection.
Yet something felt terribly wrong.
As he watched the baby, he noticed a nurse sorting Marina’s belongings into a clear bag. In the corner lay a small, old notebook.
“May I see that?” Ajay asked.
Seeing he was the registered contact, the nurse handed it to him.
It looked like a diary.
On the first page was a date from three months ago and a chilling line:
“If anything happens to me, only he will know the truth. Only he can keep the baby safe.”
Ajay’s heartbeat thundered in his ears.
He turned the page and found a hand-drawn sketch—
a building he knew too well.
His office.
And beside it:
“What I’ve seen cannot be hidden.”
His world began to crack.
The diary wasn’t just a diary—
it was an investigation report.
Marina, working as an external auditor, had discovered suspicious financial flows in several companies—
including his own.
Fake contracts. Illicit fund transfers.
A small circle of executives involved.
And the most damning name:
his direct boss, Managing Director Victor Santos.
Ajay felt fear and anger collide.
This wasn’t a simple complaint—
this was dynamite.
A warning that anyone interfering would be silenced.
The diary stated that Marina had tried contacting him after discovering his name tied to a transaction he knew nothing about.
She suspected his identity had been used as a front.
When she tried to warn him, she received threats and pressure.
During her pregnancy, fear for her safety grew.
And now, after giving birth alone, she had clung to the only name she believed she could trust:
Ajay Sharma.
As he read, there was a knock on the door. The doctor entered, concerned.
“She’s awake. She’s asking for you.”
Ajay took the notebook and went to the room.
Marina slowly opened her eyes. Weak but determined.
“Ajay…” she whispered. “Thank you for coming.”
He sat beside her.
“I don’t understand everything… but I’m here. Why me?”
She took a shaky breath.
“Because… you’re innocent. They planned to frame you. They used your identity. When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I didn’t have much time. I couldn’t trust anyone else… only you.”
“We’ve never even met,” he said softly.
“No. But you were the only trustworthy person outside their circle. I needed someone who could protect the baby if something happened to me.”
His chest tightened.
“Marina, these people are dangerous. If what you wrote is true—”
“It’s true,” she said without hesitation. “I have evidence—documents, backups, emails. All stored safely. And they know.”
Ajay clenched his fists.
“Then we’re going to stop them. But first, we need to protect you and the baby.”
She nodded, but fear shone in her eyes.
“They won’t let me go easily.”
Just then, the door burst open. A nurse rushed in.
“Sir… two men downstairs are asking for you. They don’t look like family. They said it’s urgent.”
Marina grabbed Ajay’s arm.
“It’s them,” she whispered. “They came for the diary. Or for me.”
Ajay stood, a sudden, fierce resolve rising inside him.
“I won’t let anything happen to you or the baby.”
Behind the nurse, the doctor appeared.
“If you want to leave without being seen, I can help. There’s a logistics exit at the back.”
Ajay held the diary tightly, looked at Marina and the doctor.
“Get ready. We leave now.”
At that moment, he knew his life had changed forever.
Not just because of the danger or the corporate conspiracy—
but because of the irreversible decision he had made:
To protect two strangers.
And now, they were his responsibility.
The fight had only begun.