I thought my daughter was hiding a scandal. So I followed her. But when she slipped into a stranger’s house in the middle of the night and then ran away as if she’d seen a ghost, I realized I was chasing something much worse.
The morning air was crisp and carried the sweet scent of roses. The house was still asleep. It was too early for Greg’s grumbling, too early for Veronica to start checking in with a glass of green smoothie.
But my daughters? They were still awake.
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“Well, Vivi, how are you feeling?” Dolly sipped her coffee and gave me a sly look from under her thick eyelashes.
“How do you feel about what?” I took a sip, listening to the birds chirping in the distance.
“About how your family still hasn’t gotten over last night’s dinner in the garden,” Margo added, elegantly stirring her coffee. “And most of all, the fact that everyone suddenly seems so in love with Harold.”
I sigh and put down my cup.
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“Oh, yes. At first, they looked at him like he was a ghost. Then they started talking to him like an old friend. And now? Scooter is completely enchanted.”
“Children love surprises,” Dolly agrees. “For him, it’s like a detective novel—a mysterious man from the past appears with a shocking revelation.”
“Greg needs time too,” I pressed my lips together.
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Margo slowly set her cup down, giving me a knowing look that didn’t miss a thing.
“And you, did you need time?”
I looked away. “He was always charming. At first.”
Dolly let out an exaggerated sigh.
“Oh, here we are! Vivi, my dear, we all know that your children believed Edward was their only father, but you never told us the whole story.”
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I smile slightly. “Oh, I already told it. You just weren’t listening.”
“No,” Margo adjusted the ring on her finger. “You’ve always only said what you wanted.”
Dolly dramatically clutched her chest.
“Well, now tell us! How did Harold disappear from your life, and how did Mr. Perfect Husband take his place?”
I rolled my eyes. “You already know the story.”
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“We just want to refresh our memories,” Margo said, taking another sip of coffee.
I took another sip of mine.
“Good. Harold and I… We were young, in love, and stupid. He wanted a simple life—a house, a garden, a family without extravagance. And me? I wanted more. I wanted to live in style, travel, and be part of society. I couldn’t see myself with a man who wore plaid shirts and grew vegetables.”
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Dolly rolls her eyes. “Well, you certainly got what you wanted.”
“Yes. But you know what’s weird? Last night at dinner, I suddenly realized that Greg didn’t just inherit my stubborn side. He also got something from Harold.”
“Like what?” Margo raised an eyebrow.
“That determination. Greg will resist, he’ll fight, but in the end, he always comes back to what really matters. He always wants to be in control. That comes from his father.”
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“Now what?” Dolly rested her chin on her hands.
“And now… Harold is coming for breakfast.”
Dolly almost choked on her coffee. “What?!”
“Scooter is thrilled to have a grandfather he’s never had before. And Greg… He still doesn’t know what to think, but he’s agreed to let the kids spend time with him.”
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“Aha,” Margo murmurs. “Of course, that’s how it always starts. He charmed you too.”
I didn’t have time to answer because suddenly the sound of a car approaching caught our attention.
We all turned toward the driveway. A sleek black sedan pulled up in front of the house, and Belinda got out.
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I squinted. She leaned out the car window, cautiously waving goodbye to someone inside. Seconds later, the car drove off, and I watched Belinda smooth down her hair and slip into the house.
“Hm,” Margo hums. “Looks like she didn’t spend the night at home.”
I smile. “At least one mystery in this house, I’ll solve it.”
“And how exactly do you plan to go about it?”
I watched my daughter walk up the stairs, acting as if nothing was amiss. “Oh, I have my ways.”
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***
If there was one thing I hated more than unexpected guests, it was unsolved mysteries. And my daughter sneaking home at dawn in a stranger’s car? That was a mystery that demanded answers.
I didn’t confront her right away. No, no. I played the smart card.
At breakfast, Belinda sat straight-backed, sipping her green tea as if she’d just returned from a morning yoga class instead of God knows where.
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***
So, when night fell, I did something I hadn’t done in years. I followed my own daughter. It had been a long time since I’d engaged in a real chase.
In my heyday, I had pulled off more than one secret operation: rummaging through my late husband’s account books, discovering a neighbor’s “secret” gambling den, and so on.
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But following Belinda without getting caught? That required finesse.
She left the house at eleven o’clock. No hesitation, no looking back. That was the first warning sign. If you’re going to sneak out, at least have the decency to hesitate.
I slipped into my car, staying just far enough behind. It drove for nearly twenty minutes before stopping in front of a modest suburban house. No sign of life inside.
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Then, to my horror, my daughter… Belinda, my responsible, schedule- and rule-following daughter… got out of her car, walked to the house… and slipped inside through a side window.
But what is…?
Before I could even comprehend the absurdity of what I was witnessing, the porch light came on. A shadow passed in front of the curtains.
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Belinda froze. Then she rushed. Then she ran like a woman who’s been caught red-handed doing something she definitely shouldn’t have done.
I acted on instinct. I stopped right in front of her and opened the passenger door.
“Mounted.”
“Mom?!” she gasped, breathless, her eyes wild.
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“Would you rather talk to me or the police?” I nodded toward the end of the street, where a patrol car was slowly turning.
She moaned, jumped inside, and slammed the door.
And so it was that I found myself speeding down the road at 1 a.m., with my daughter in full panic mode next to me and the inevitable flash of blue and red lights suddenly appearing in the rearview mirror.
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***
I parked in the deserted parking lot of a dimly lit bar, turned off the engine, and turned to my daughter.
“Start talking.”
Belinda stared out the window, her fingers gripping her knees so tightly her knuckles turned white.
“Mom, I…” She exhaled sharply. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Try the part where I had to flee the cops in my own car at 2 a.m. because my daughter, who color-codes her grocery lists, was breaking into a house.”
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She closed her eyes. “I wasn’t breaking in.”
“Oh, excuse me. You happened to be… what? Checking their security system? Offering free interior design advice?”
“Mom, please. This isn’t funny.”
I sighed, softening, just a little. “Then tell me what it is.”
She sat in silence for a while. Then, finally, she looked up at me, her eyes shining.
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“I had a baby when I was twenty-five.”
Everything inside me stopped. The words rang in my ears like a gunshot.
“What ?!”
“I had a baby. A little girl. And I abandoned her. I was afraid of you. I had to start my career.”
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I felt the world tilt beneath my feet.
“But… how?” My voice was hoarse, unfamiliar. “I… I would have known.”
“You were traveling,” she said, her voice raw. “Remember the year you left on that long trip? You left me with the nanny. And she… she was the one who helped me.”
I took a deep breath.
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Nina. The nanny I hired to keep things “stable” while I went on my one big adventure, traveling across Europe, promising I’d return with new stories and new experiences.
I came back with the same girl I left. Or so I thought.
“She took the baby,” Belinda whispers. “She raised it as her own. I didn’t even see her for years.”
I pressed my fingers to my temple. “Now what?”
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“Now I’ve found her again. I spent weeks visiting her, getting to know her. But when I told Nina I wanted her back, she refused.”
“So tonight?”
“I went to get her… but they were gone. Moved. And someone called the cops.”
“She’s ten, Mom,” Belinda whispers. “Same age as Scooter.”
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I closed my eyes for a moment, my heart clenching painfully. Belinda had a child, my granddaughter, and she was off living a life I never even knew existed. She wiped her eyes.
“I found out I can’t have children, Mom. I can’t have any more. And she’s mine. She’s always been mine.”
“You should have told me.”
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She lets out a hollow laugh. “Tell you? The woman who runs this family like a courtroom? Who thinks emotions are for people who can’t strategize? Mom, I was afraid to tell you if I’d caught a cold, let alone had a baby at eighteen.”
It stung. But the worst part was, she wasn’t wrong.
I sat there, staring at my daughter—the woman who had lived with a burden for ten years.
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“I have to fix this,” I whispered.
“What ?!”
I straightened my back, my mind already racing like clockwork. “You said Nina took it off, right?”
She nodded. And with that, I pressed the button, making my car roar to life.
“So I know exactly where to start.”
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“Mom… what are you planning?”
“To fix this mess. And to do that, I have to go somewhere I never thought I’d return.”
If my past was the only way to fix my daughter’s future, then it was time to stop running from it.
I had to sacrifice one more of my secrets to save my family.
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If you liked the third part of the story, read the previous one: The morning began with a scream—Scooter was missing. There was not a single trace of him. By noon, panic had spread. But my worst fear wasn’t that he was missing. It was who he’d found . Read the full story here .
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