**Diary Entry**
She gave up her grandchildren for an old dog, then silently buried her guilt.
— *Daisy, keep your boy away! He’s driving my poor Benjamin mad!* — Larissa hissed, pointing at the dishevelled dog curled up in the armchair. — *I told you plainly—take your little devil away this instant!*
Daisy paled, guiding little Alfie aside, whispering softly, *”Sorry, love.”*
From the bedroom stepped Alfie Sr., rubbing his temples wearily:
— *What now? Between the shouting and the nappies, I can’t get a moment’s peace!*
— *Oh, heaven forbid we disturb your precious work!* — His mother scoffed. — *Benjamin hasn’t got long left, and all you care about is your peace and quiet. Enough! I won’t have you lot under my roof another day. You didn’t plan to freeload forever, did you?*
— *Mum, don’t be like this. We help out—Daisy does the housework, we buy groceries…*
— *I don’t care! I’ve done my bit—now sort out your own lives! Pack your things. You’ve got three days.*
Alfie glared at the old dog, then stormed off. Daisy sank beside the cot where her six-month-old twins slept and wept silently.
— *We’ll leave tonight,* her husband murmured, squeezing her shoulder.
— *But where, Al? We’ve no money, no home…*
— *Charlie gave me his keys while he’s away on business. We’ll stay there, and I’ll pick up extra shifts. We’ll manage, Daisy. Promise.*
She nodded numbly, packing in silence. At the door, Larissa didn’t even bother to see them off—just called from the kitchen:
— *Running off, are you? Well, good riddance!*
But fate had other plans. On the way to Charlie’s, their cab was struck by a speeding car. Alfie and the twins died instantly. Daisy survived—though barely—slipping into a coma for two months.
Then, on a dreary, drizzly morning, her eyelids fluttered open. The first face she saw was Larissa’s.
— *Daisy, love! Oh, thank God you’re awake…* — The woman pressed trembling lips to her hands.
— *Who… are you?* — Daisy whispered weakly.
— *Your mum…* — Larissa lied, swallowing the lump in her throat.
She never spoke of the accident. Told the doctors Daisy’s memory was gone and begged them not to say a word. *Not yet,* she decided. Alfie’s and the babies’ things were tossed out, photos hidden in a box at the top of the wardrobe. She wanted to undo it all—if only she could.
Daisy recovered slowly at home, finding comfort only in Alex, the physiotherapist. With him, she smiled genuinely. But Larissa? Daisy shrank from her touch, sensing something cold, unfamiliar.
One day, while dusting, Larissa wobbled on an old stool. It collapsed beneath her, leaving her with a twisted ankle. Daisy drove her to A&E but had to rush back for the paperwork.
Then she saw it—the dusty box. Inside, photos. Her. Alfie. The twins. Memory struck like lightning, pain slicing through her skull. She screamed.
Bursting into A&E, she clutched the photos like a lifeline.
— *Tell me the truth… Where are my children? Where’s Alfie?!*
Larissa wept—real tears, thick with guilt and grief. Silence was her answer, sharp as a blade. Daisy collapsed on the threshold.
She woke, then bolted from the hospital. Rain lashed, wind howled as she ran blindly—straight to the bridge. The river below whispered, *”Jump. Peace. Nothingness.”*
Then—strong hands. Steady. It was Alex.
— *Daisy… I won’t let you fall. Cry. Scream. But don’t go silent—don’t disappear. I’m here.*
She buried her face in his chest, sobbing like the world had ended. He held her, stroking her hair wordlessly.
There was so much ahead—forgiveness, healing, learning to breathe again. But there, in the cold and the grey, a new chapter began. Not the life she’d lost, but the faintest glimmer of what might still be.
**Lesson learned:** Some wounds never fully heal. But even in the darkest storms, another soul may steady yours—if you let them.
