From her earliest memories, Lida Hayes knew her life would never be like other girls. One childhood moment changed everything, leaving its markboth literal and emotional.
At six, she survived a terrible accident that scarred much of her face. Her mother, Amelia, fiercely protective and strong-willed, devoted her life to Lidas care. The accident stole not just Lidas unmarked skin but her innocence, turning Amelias life into a constant fight for survival.
Lida grew up learning people noticed her scars first. They became both a curse and, strangely, a shield. She accepted most men would never look past her face, silently resigning herself to little chance of romance.
Amelia never stopped insisting otherwise.
“Dont worry, Lida,” shed murmur, brushing hair from her daughters face. “Well save for a specialist. Youll be beautiful again.”
Amelia believed it. A doctor by trade, she worked endless hours, stashing money in an old tin box, even skipping essentials.
Lida often protested, “Stop making yourself sick for me. Im fine like this. Maybe betterIll never end up with someone like Dad.”
Victor, her father, vanished right after the accident. Lida grew up sure hed abandoned them. Amelia never spoke ill of him. She kept an old photo: a younger Amelia with a long braid, standing beside a tall, dark-haired man. Lida wasnt born yetjust a promise in her mothers belly.
“He was good,” Amelia insisted. “We dont know the whole story.”
But Lidas bitterness never faded. No good man would leave his family in their hardest moment.
When Amelia died years later from untreated respiratory issues, Lida found a hidden journal. Its worn pages revealed Victor might have had another familya son named Arthur in a nearby town.
“Maybe he just started over,” Amelia had written. “I never told Lida. Every child deserves to believe their father loved them.”
The revelation didnt erase Lidas resentment but deepened her understanding of her mothers quiet sacrifices.
After the funeral, Amelias best friend, Evelyn Grant, pulled Lida aside. “Your mother was proud of you,” she said. “She told me shed have given up long ago if not for you. Dont blame yourself.”
Evelyn became Lidas anchor. Yet the years after Amelias death were lonely. The photo of her parents became Lidas most treasured possession, kept in her wallet for comfort.
She found work at a mid-tier restaurant, washing dishes out back, away from staring customers. The job was hard, the atmosphere tense under the young owner, Arthur Millerrich, handsome, and unbearable. His mother had bought the place after his studies abroad. He spent most of his time complaining, calling staff thieves and slackers.
In truth, the restaurant ran only because of Evelyn, the sub-manager who actually kept things together. She treated the team kindly, slipping them bonuses when she could.
One morning, Arthur stormed into the dish area, accusing someone of stealing. He demanded wallets. Marina, Lidas coworker, handed hers over first. When Lida reluctantly offered hers, Arthur froze upon seeing the faded photo inside.
“Who who are these people?” he asked, voice tight.
“My parents. And no, they didnt take your money,” Lida snapped.
Arthur handed it back without a word and hurried out.
Later, Evelyn called Lida to the office. Arthur looked shaken. “Where did you get that photo?”
“My mother kept it. Why?”
“That man is my father. Victor Miller.”
Lida stared. “Youre Arthur? His son?”
He nodded. “I didnt know about you. My mother never mentioned it. Dad died when I was fifteen. He never explainedjust looked sad when he thought I wasnt watching.”
The words hit Lida like a wave. The man shed despisedher fatherwas also Arthurs. They were half-siblings.
Over the next week, Arthurs attitude shifted. He stopped barking orders, lingered near the dish area, even brought her coffee. “Ive been an idiot,” he admitted. “Youre family. I dont want to waste more years not knowing you.”
Lida hesitated. “Family” had always been a painful word. But his tone felt genuine.
With Evelyns encouragement, they talked more. Lida shared stories of Amelias strength; Arthur confessed his lonely childhood with a distant father.
“Sometimes hed hum,” Arthur said. “Like he was somewhere else. Maybe thinking of you.”
The thought softened something in Lida. Perhaps her mother had been rightmaybe Victors disappearance wasnt just weakness.
Months passed. Arthur promoted Lida to front-of-house and insisted on paying for the skin treatments Amelia had dreamed of.
“Let him,” Evelyn urged. “Its love, not pity.”
The scars never fully faded, but Lida grew more comfortable meeting peoples eyes.
One night, Arthur gave her a small gold locketVictors. Inside was a baby photo of her.
“He carried it everywhere,” Arthur said. “I think he wanted to come back. Just didnt know how.”
Tears filled Lidas eyes. For the first time in years, the knot in her chest loosened. She wasnt as alone as shed thought.
A year later, the restaurant thrived. Arthur had grown into his role, learning from Evelyn and even listening to Lida.
On Amelias death anniversary, they visited her grave. Arthur placed the photo from Lidas wallet in a glass frame by the headstone.
“Now shes with both of us,” he whispered.
Lida linked her arm through his. “And were together.”
For the first time since she was six, Lida believed her mothers words: everything would be alright.
*Inspired by real events and people, though fictionalized. Names, details, and characters have been altered for privacy and narrative purposes. Any resemblance to actual individuals or incidents is coincidental.*
