Hazel stumbles upon a hidden folder on her father’s computer, filled with photos that upend everything she thought she knew. The images reveal a shocking truth about her mother’s death, calling into question everything she knew about her family. As she prepares to confront it, she must ask herself if she’s ready to hear truths that could change everything.
“Honey, have you remembered to water the plants?” I asked Ethan as we walked into our cozy living room.
An assortment of potted plants | Source: Unsplash
Ethan looked up from his book and smiled. “Yes, my love, I did. You know I wouldn’t forget your precious plants.”
I chuckled, feeling content with our life together.
A man sitting on a sofa, reading a book | Source: Pexels
It had been five years since I moved out of Dad’s house. I was only twenty years old at the time, full of dreams and hopes for the future. Mom died when I was only one, so I didn’t get to spend much time with her. The only memories I had of her were the photos and stories Dad and I shared.
I missed her so much on my wedding day. Dad did his best, but there were moments that only a mother’s touch could mend.
A bride and groom hugging each other outdoors | Source: Unsplash
Meeting and marrying Ethan opened a new chapter of joy in my life. Our home, though modest, was filled with love and laughter.
“Sometimes I can’t believe how happy we are,” I said, sinking into the couch next to him. “I miss Dad because he must get so lonely sometimes, but I love our life here.”
Ethan wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. “You can always visit him, Hazel. He’s not that far away.”
A couple getting cozy with each other | Source: Pexels
I nodded. “I know. But I really miss him sometimes. I wonder what he’s doing these days,” I said. “Probably tinkering with something in the garage?”
Ethan laughed. “Most likely. He loves his projects.”
An elderly man working on a motorcycle | Source: Pexels
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, savoring the peace of our home. Our marriage wasn’t perfect, and we had our ups and downs, but we faced them together.
The next day, while I was enjoying a quiet morning, my phone rang.
A woman enjoying a peaceful morning | Source: Pexels
It was Dad.
“Hi, Dad,” I said, answering.
“Hazel, could you come help me with some chores? I’m busy at work and the house needs tidying,” he asked.
“Sure, Dad. I’ll be there soon,” I replied.
Elderly man on the phone | Source: Pexels
I was so happy he called and asked me to come over. Honestly, I was just looking for a reason to visit him, and now I had it.
Later that evening, I arrived at Dad’s house, a place filled with memories of my childhood. The familiar creak of the front door greeted me as I stepped inside.
Inside a comfortable living room | Source: Pexels
“It’s time to get to work,” I said to myself, rolling up my sleeves. I always felt it was my duty to help Dad, especially since he had done so much for me.
As I finished tidying the kitchen and vacuuming the living room, I remembered I had a task to complete for my boss.
A woman using a vacuum cleaner on a carpet | Source: Pexels
Dad’s laptop sat in the corner of the office, an old model but still functional. I knew it didn’t use a password, so I turned it on and got to work.
As I was typing, my eyes fell on his files.
A person typing on a laptop | Source: Unsplash
One folder caught my eye. It was called “Memories,” which seemed odd because Dad had never mentioned keeping digital photos.
Curious, I clicked on it.
Inside, I found another folder titled “Special Day.”
A woman working on a laptop while sitting on a bed | Source: Unsplash
My curiosity grew and I opened it.
What I saw next made my heart stop.
There were dozens of photos of my parents, looking incredibly happy. But what caught my attention was the date on the photos. It was the day my mother died.
A woman staring at a laptop screen in shock | Source: Midjourney
“This can’t be possible,” I whispered, feeling a wave of confusion and shock wash over me.
Dad always told me that Mom died in the hospital after a long illness. But these photos showed them celebrating, smiling, and even dancing.
I scrolled through the images, each one more confusing than the last. My mother looked radiant, not like someone seriously ill. My father’s smile was wide, his eyes sparkling with joy.
A man carrying a woman on the beach | Source: Pexels
“Why didn’t he ever tell me about this?” I wondered aloud, a mixture of anger and sadness bubbling inside me.
I felt betrayed, as if a part of my past had been hidden from me all these years.
A woman with her head bowed in despair | Source: Pexels
I sat back down in the chair, trying to make sense of it all. Why would Dad lie about Mom’s death? What really happened that day?
Questions swirled through my mind, each one more urgent than the last.
“I need to talk to Dad,” I decided, closing the file and turning off the computer.
A person using their phone | Source: Pexels
Grabbing my phone, I dialed Dad’s number with shaky hands.
“Hello, Hazel,” he replied cheerfully. “I’m sorry, dear, it’s too much work looking after this old man’s house, huh?”
An elderly man on guard | Source: Pexels
“Dad, you need to come home right away,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s important.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked, worried.
“No, it’s not okay,” I replied, my voice cracking. “I found something on your computer. I need to talk to you about it. Please come home.”
A woman making a phone call at home, with her laptop in front of her | Source: Pexels
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Then Dad spoke, his voice serious. “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Give me 20 minutes.”
“Thank you,” I whispered as I hung up the phone.
An elderly man looking serious during a phone call | Source: Pexels
I paced the living room, my emotions swirling. How could he keep this from me? Why did he lie about Mom’s death?
The minutes seemed like hours as I waited. I tried to distract myself by tidying the room, but my thoughts kept returning to those photos. They made no sense. Mom looked so happy and healthy.
A happy woman holding her partner’s hand | Source: Pexels
Finally, I heard the sound of the front door opening. Dad rushed inside, his face filled with worry.
“Hazel, what’s going on?” he asked, approaching me.
An older man looking concerned | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath, trying to control my emotions. “I was using your computer to finish a task for work, and I found a folder with pictures of you and Mom. They were taken the day she died. You always told me she died in the hospital after a long illness. But these pictures… they show you both happy, celebrating. What happened, Dad?”
A woman with a serious expression on her face | Source: Pexels
Dad’s face turned pale and he sat down heavily on the sofa.
“What are you hiding, Dad? Tell me!”
“Hazel, I… I didn’t want you to know the truth,” he said, his voice trembling. “There’s so much you don’t understand.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling a fresh surge of anger. “Why did you lie to me all these years?”
A sad man | Source: Pexels
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with pain. “I thought I was protecting you. But maybe it’s time you knew the whole story.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding.
A sad-looking woman | Source: Midjourney
“It was 24 years ago, Hazel,” he began. “Your mother and I decided to go camping on the ocean shore. It was a beautiful weekend, just the two of us. We laughed, we talked, and we made plans for the future.”
I could see the memories coming back to him, his face softening for a moment. “We had the time of our lives. But on the way back, everything changed. I lost control of the car. It skidded and crashed into a tree.”
A car crushed by a tree | Source: Pexels
My heart pounded as I listened, the shock of his words sinking into reality. “What happened next?”
“We were in the middle of nowhere, with no cell service, no way to call for help,” he continued. “Your mother was seriously injured. I knew I had to get help, but there was no one there. So I carried her, Hazel. I carried her through the forest for two hours, hoping to find someone, anyone, who could help us.”
A sad picture of a young couple | Source: Midjourney
Tears welled up in my eyes as I imagined the scene, my father struggling through the forest with my injured mother in his arms. “But she didn’t survive, did she?” I asked, my voice breaking.
Dad shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “No, Hazel. By the time we reached the nearest town, it was too late. She was gone.”
A man with his head bowed | Source: Pexels
I felt a deep, aching pain in my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me, Dad? Why did you let me think she died in the hospital? Why did you lie to me my whole life?!”
He looked at me, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I thought I was protecting you. I didn’t want you to remember her like this. I wanted you to remember the happy times, not the tragedy.”
A man with a painful look | Source: Pexels
“But you lied to me,” I said, feeling anger rising inside me. “You let me live my whole life believing something that wasn’t true. How could you do that?”
Dad’s shoulders slumped and he looked down at his hands. “I was scared, Hazel. Scared that you’d hate me, that you’d blame me for her death. It was my fault. I was driving. I lost control. If I’d been more careful, she’d still be here.”
An elderly, bearded man with a serious expression on his face | Source: Midjourney
I was shocked that the man who had always been my rock, my source of strength, had lied to me all these years.
“I can’t believe you kept this from me,” I said, my voice breaking. “I trusted you, Dad. And now I don’t know what to think.”
A woman in tears | Source: Pexels
Dad reached out to me, but I pulled away. “Please, Hazel,” he pleaded. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “I need time, Dad. I need to think.”
An elderly man with a young woman | Source: Pexels
I stood up, my legs unsteady. The room seemed to spin as I tried to comprehend everything that was happening. I looked at Dad one last time, his face etched with regret and pain, before turning and walking out of the house.
The fresh air hit me as I stepped outside, but it didn’t clear the fog in my mind. I felt a deep sense of betrayal and loss, my heart breaking under the weight of the truth.
A person walking away | Source: Pexels
I don’t know how to digest this revelation, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive Dad for lying to me.
Would you be able to forgive in this situation?
If you liked this story, here’s another one where a measuring cup helped a wife discover her husband’s secret life.
A woman holding a plate of fortune cookies | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the story. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims regarding the accuracy of events or character portrayals and are not responsible for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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