"Suzy…she's not my mum."

The silence following Olivia's pronouncement lingered so that each breath sounded deafening in their own ears. Olivia was shocked; she had expected Carla to jump to her mother's defense; to declare her statement to be an outright falsehood, that it could never be true. The fact that Carla remained silent – with that look on her face – terrified Olivia more than anything had since that awful moment she had first discovered her mother was anything but her mother.

"Carla?" Olivia finally broke the silence, tentatively and with growing fear. "Carla. Did you hear me? Carla!"

"Ahhh…" Carla ripped her thoughts from memories of the past and forced herself to focus on Olivia. "What, ahhh… what makes you say that, that your mum–"

"Suzy."

"Your mum," Carla insisted, ignoring the pout that formed on the teen's lips. "Why would you say such a thing? It's… it's unbelievable."

"I did a test."

"A test?" Carla's face screwed up in confusion as she continued to delay embarking on the story that would change both of their lives forever. "What do you mean, a test?"

"You know, a DNA test."

"A… but, I don't understand, what would make you get one in the first place? What made you suspect that…?"

"I didn't," Olivia began her explanation, "I was doing a school report – a family tree you know with those tests you can do, you send them in the mail, you know to find out how much of you is from different countries – and, well, mum – Suzy – she didn't want me to do it. And she wouldn't say why. She yelled at me, she forbi-forbidded-forbidded she said no. And so I… I did it anyway."

"Without telling her?"

"Yeah."

"And that's when you found out that…"

"We didn't match," Olivia confirmed. "We're not related."

"I see," Carla reckoned quickly in her mind that there would be no denying this hard evidence. "And what did your mum say when you told her?"

"I didn't tell her."

"You didn't–"

"I came straight here, to see you."

"But–"

"Mum told me about that friend of yours, you know the one whose baby got swapped in the hospital?"

"Michelle?"

"The babies, they were swapped at birth, weren't they?"

"Well, yes, but–"

"And they didn't find out until the boys were older than I am now, right?"

"That's right," Carla confirmed. "I don't understand–"

"That could've happened to me," Olivia suggested hopefully. "Couldn't it?"

"Oh, honey, no."

"It's the only thing that makes sense."

"That kind of thing, it's very rare."

"But it can happen," Olivia insisted; "it did happen."

"Once, it happened once."

"You have to help me, Carla," Olivia begged. "What do I do now? Do I call the hospital? Get a lawyer?"

"Listen, Liv–"

"Carla, please help me."

"Liv, you weren't swapped at birth."

"You don't know that!"

"I do."

"Carla, what did you say to Sean, he's having a right whinge…" Sarah stopped in her tracks, noticing for the first time the young girl sitting opposite Carla. "Sorry, I didn't realise you had a… meeting? New supplier I take it?" Sarah couldn't help but smile to herself at her little joke.

"What does Sean want now?" Carla scowled at the newcomer. "Actually, I don't care. Sarah," Carla commanded the situation as she rose briskly to her feet and snatched up her bag: "you deal with Sean. I'm out for the rest of the day."

"But– you've got the Rickson meeting this afternoon. What shall I tell him?"

"Figure it out, Sarah. That's what I pay you for. Come on, Liv."

Without a backwards glance at Sarah, Carla took Olivia's hand in her own and led her out of the Factory.

"These for Carla?" Tracy asked, her lips curling into a sneer at the thought of her sister-in-law, as she watched Peter browse the bunches of ready-made floral bouquets that lined the wall. "What's she mad at this time?"

"Who says she's mad?" Peter scowled. "Can't I do summat nice for my wife without having a reason?"

"You? Summat nice?" Tracy scoffed before leaning towards Peter, a conspiratorial look on her face. "No, really, tell me, what's happened?"

"Nothing's happened," Peter cried, exasperated.

"You know, you should really tell her you won't put up with her moods no more. I mean, she should be grateful to have such a caring husband."

"Shut it, Trace."

"I'm just saying."

"Yeah, well, I don't wanna hear it. I'll take these," Peter handed over a bunch of oriental lilies. "Carla likes these."

"Lilies," Tracy stated as she taped some brown paper around the bottom of the bouquet.

"What?"

"The flowers, they're lilies."

"Whatever, Trace, how much do I owe you?"

"Thirty quid."

"Thirty? What about the family discount?"

"Well… since they're for Carla, I'll make it…" Tracy smirked; "forty!"

"Very funny, Trace." Peter handed over thirty pounds and snatched the bouquet back from Tracy.

"She better appreciate them!" Tracy called out to Peter as he sauntered out of the florist. "And you!"

"She will," Peter said, smiling to himself at the thought of Carla's promises to be fulfilled that evening. "She does."

"Now then, where were we?"

Carla and Olivia were now safely ensconced on the sofa in Carla and Peter's flat; Carla had wanted somewhere private, somewhere safe, to give her account of the past.

"You said you knew I wasn't swapped," Olivia reminded her. "I don't know how you know for sure, no one knows anything for sure."

"I do," Carla said. "I know for sure."

"How?"

"Because I was there in LA the day you were born. I was there, in the room, when you were born. I saw you, I– believe me, sweetheart, you weren't swapped. You are… you are who you are."

"But I don't know who that is!"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes!"

"Your mum–"

"Suzy!"

"Your mum raised you, she loved you – loves you."

"She lied to me."

"Darlin', if your mum lied to you, then your…your biological mum, she lied too."

"I don't care, I want to know."

"Okay," Carla nodded, taking Olivia's hand in hers and looking into her eyes. "I'll tell you, but please, don't hate me. I had… I had my reasons."

"For what?"

With a deep breath, Carla revealed the truth.

"You're right: Suzy, she isn't your biological mother – but she is your mum in every way that matters, remember that, okay?"

"Carla, please, just tell me."

"Your biological mother…it's me."

"You what?"

Carla's eyes flew up to the front door of the flat that was now open, her husband standing there, a bunch of flowers in his hand and a look of abject horror on his face.