As death drew near, her mother-in-law revealed a terrible truth that changed everything…
“Emily… I need to speak to you honestly. I can feel my time is close. You must know the truth, even if you hate me for it afterward,” whispered Margaret, gripping Emily’s hand tightly.
Emily froze. “Emily”? Ever since she’d married her son, Margaret had only ever called her “that barren girl,” “a useless wife,” or worse. Never affectionately. Yet now—her voice trembled, tears pooling in her eyes. Maybe death really did force a person to face the truth. Perhaps Margaret had finally found remorse.
Emily worked as a nurse in the very hospital where Margaret had been admitted after a severe heart attack. The doctors murmured that recovery was unlikely. She hadn’t seen her ex-husband, Andrew, in years—whether he’d visited his mother or not, she didn’t care. After he’d shattered her heart and walked away, she couldn’t bear to hear his name.
It had all started with the pregnancy. Emily had longed for a child, but Andrew was cold. He grumbled about money, called family a burden, said he’d be the one carrying the weight. She promised to work from home, not be a burden, but he’d only scoffed. And his mother? Margaret had looked at her with disdain, implying Emily had “trapped him with a baby.”
When labor came, the doctors suddenly insisted on a C-section—though there was no medical reason. Emily had tried calling Margaret, who was head of the maternity ward, hoping she’d intervene. But Margaret never answered. After the surgery, they told her: “The baby didn’t survive.” It was like a knife through her heart. Her daughter—the one she’d already named Lily—was gone. That day, Emily stopped believing in love, fairness, or kindness.
The marriage crumbled. Andrew blamed her “weak health” and “failure as a mother.” His mother backed him, twisting the knife deeper. The divorce painted Emily as the villain. She was left alone, hollow and broken.
Now, Margaret lay in that same hospital, needing care. No son, no new wife by her side. Age had made her unwanted, even by her own family.
“Don’t say that, Margaret! You’ll pull through!” Emily protested, but Margaret weakly waved her off.
“No… It’s over. You know it. But you—you’re a good woman. I was wrong not to stand by you. I took my son’s side… Emily, the C-section wasn’t just a medical decision.”
Emily’s heart stopped. She’d always suspected something was wrong. But to hear it now…
“Your baby… she didn’t die. She was taken. Your daughter… my granddaughter… was given up for adoption to a wealthy family.”
The room spun. A ringing filled Emily’s ears, her legs buckled. She clutched the bed to stay upright. The frail woman before her was no longer just a patient—she was the thief who’d stolen everything.
“Why?” Emily choked out, her voice trembling like a frayed thread.
“Andrew never wanted children. You knew that… His career was just starting. He was afraid a child would drag him down, that you’d demand alimony if he left. He convinced me… I arranged it. Made you believe she was gone. I did it for his future. And now… facing death… I see the guilt I carry. Can you ever forgive me?”
“How could you?!” Emily’s tears fell unchecked. “Where is she? Where’s my daughter?”
“In the drawer… a notebook. The address is inside,” Margaret rasped. “But Emily… he’s powerful now. He won’t give her up. He’ll protect his family at any cost.”
“We’ll see about that,” Emily hissed.
Her hands shook as she yanked open the drawer and grabbed the notebook. Tearing out the page, she stormed out without looking back.
“Emily… forgive me…” Margaret’s voice trailed after her.
“God might,” Emily muttered.
She couldn’t stay another second near the woman who’d destroyed her dream of motherhood. Only one thought consumed her—seeing her daughter.
Five and a half years. She’d be so grown now… Alive. Emily wiped her tears and marched to the hospital office, muttering about an emergency. The drive to the address blurred past. And there she stood, staring at the gates of a grand estate, realizing she couldn’t just walk in and take her child. It dawned on her—this would shatter the little girl’s world. She was used to another life, another mother. But just to see her… Just once…
A man greeted her on the porch. Tall, handsome, but his gaze was ice. From the garden behind him, a child’s laughter rang out. Emily’s heart clenched.
“Are you here about the nanny position?” he asked, studying her.
“Nanny?” She barely glanced at him, eyes fixed on the garden where the laughter had come from.
“Is that not why you’re here?”
“Daniel?” she whispered, and he nodded. “I’m not here as a nanny. I’m here for my daughter.” His face paled, jaw tightening. He looked ready to crush her with a glare, but Emily stood firm. “It’s a long story… Please, just listen.” Through tears, she told him everything—how her husband had convinced his mother to dispose of the child, how she’d been deceived into believing Lily was dead.
“I won’t give her to you,” Daniel cut in coldly. “She’s my world. My life.”
Lily… The name Emily had chosen. Her legs trembled, but she held her ground. Daniel could throw her out, call the police—but he just listened.
“Come inside,” he finally said. “Have some tea, and I’ll tell you my side.”
She nodded, though her heart pulled her toward the garden. Inside the lavish home, sadness crept over her. She could never provide this—the clothes, the toys, the luxury. Could she make Lily happy? She’d give everything, but would it be enough? Glancing into the playroom, she saw dollhouses and expensive toys. Over tea, Daniel spoke.
“My wife was infertile. We wanted a child desperately. Then the hospital called—a baby girl, they said, whose mother had abandoned her. We didn’t hesitate. The house was full of joy. Then, when Lily was three, my wife died of a heart attack. Like a storm out of nowhere. Two and a half years later, and I still can’t accept it. Lily keeps asking when Mummy’s coming back from heaven. It breaks me… She waits for her mother—but not you.”
Emily’s heart shattered. She set down her cup. Through the window, she saw the girl—her mirror image. She ached to run to her, but she couldn’t. Not like this. Lily loved her father.
“You mentioned needing a nanny,” Emily said firmly.
“Not you,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “You couldn’t hold back. How could I trust you?”
“Trust me, I swear! I came to take her, but now I see—she has a life here. I won’t ruin it. Just let me be near her. Let me be her nanny.”
“I’ll decide in two days,” he said curtly.
The next two days were agony. Emily fought the urge to go to the police, to demand her daughter back. But she knew—that wasn’t the way. For Lily’s sake, she had to be wiser.
When Daniel called, tension laced his voice. He agreed—but only if she signed a contract, swore never to tell Lily she was her mother, attended counseling, and took a DNA test. Only then would she be hired. Emily agreed without hesitation. She already knew Lily was hers—the girl was her double. But Daniel needed proof.
When the results confirmed it, and the psychologist assured him Emily could control her emotions, Daniel handed her the contract. She signed without reading. That same day, he introduced Lily to her new nanny.
At first, she worked short shifts. But within a month, Daniel insisted she quit the hospital and move in.
“Lily adores you,” he said. “She’s attached. It’s better for her if you’re here full-time.”
She’d have worked unpaid, but Daniel insisted on wages, citing the contract. She cooked, cleaned, and spent every moment she could with Lily. Each smile tore at her heart—she longed to hold her, to say “my darling,” but she restrained herself.
Eight months passed. Daniel began to trust her. He saw how deeply she loved Lily, how selflessly she cared. He knew she’d never take her away. Slowly, he opened up—walks in the garden, shared conversations. Without realizing it, he began to feel something for her, though he couldn’t say it.
On Emily’s birthday, he acted as though he hadn’t noticed. But that evening, he and Lily surprised her with cake and tea. Shyly, the girl handed her a small, ribbon-tied box.
“Daddy told me the truth,” Lily murmured, eyes downcast. “You’re my mummy, who came back from heaven.”
Emily froze. Her heart
