I will never forget that day.
It was already late when Emily put on her jacket, kissed me on the cheek, and said:
— I’ll be quick, just going to grab some diapers.
Our daughter, Lily, was very little back then, and we lived a simple, peaceful life. Emily was a caring mother, a loving wife. Nothing foreshadowed the tragedy that was about to unfold.
She left… and never came back.
I waited for an hour, then two, then all night. I called hospitals, the police, all our friends. Her car was found three days later—left in the supermarket parking lot. No signs of violence, no notes, nothing. She had simply vanished.
The police never found any leads. Some thought she had left voluntarily; others believed she was the victim of a crime. And I… I didn’t know what to believe.
Fifteen years passed.
I learned to live without her. Lily grew up, became a beautiful woman, but she never stopped asking about her mother.
— Do you think she’s alive? — she would ask sometimes.
I never knew what to say.
And then, last week, I saw her.
Just there, between the supermarket shelves.
I froze.
She had barely changed—her hair was the same, with just a few silver strands, her eyes still familiar… but there was something different about her.
When she saw me, her hand trembled—she almost dropped the carton of juice.
And the first thing she said:
— You have to forgive me.
A thousand questions screamed in my mind.
— Forgive you?! You disappeared, left me with a little child, without a word! Where have you been?
Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
— Please, just listen to me.
I said nothing.
She pulled out her phone, quickly found something, and showed me a photo.
On the screen—her, lying in a hospital bed. Pale, with thin tubes attached to her arms.
I felt my entire world shift.
— What…?
— I didn’t leave. I was kidnapped.
She began to tell her story.
That night, when she went out to buy diapers, a man approached her. He smiled, asked for directions. And then… everything went black.
She woke up in an unfamiliar place—a small room with no windows, a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
She didn’t know why she was there. She didn’t know what they wanted from her. She tried to escape, but it was impossible. The only thing that kept her from losing her mind was thinking about Lily.
— I thought about you both every single day. About you teaching her to walk, about her growing up…
I closed my eyes. I didn’t know what was worse—losing her or realizing that all these years, she had been there… in captivity.
— How did you get out? — I finally asked.
Emily pressed her lips together.
— One day, there were fewer of them. Someone helped me escape. They took me to a hospital. It took me a long time to recover. I thought I wouldn’t make it back… that you two were gone.
— Why didn’t you try to find us?
She sighed.
— I was afraid. Afraid that you would hate me. Afraid that Lily wouldn’t want to see me.
We stood there between the pasta shelves, and between us hung 15 years of pain.
— Where are you living now? — I asked quietly.
— A women’s shelter, — she looked away. — I have no one… except you.
I took a deep breath.
— Lily needs to know.
When Lily saw her, she froze.
A few seconds passed… and then she ran into her mother’s arms.
They both cried.
I watched them and understood: we would never get those 15 years back.
But maybe, just maybe, we could start over.
And that was the only right choice.
