After my husband died, I moved in with my mother-in-law—not because I wanted to, but because I had no choice. I had a little girl to take care of, and I thought maybe Sylvia and I could help each other get through the pain. I truly believed we could support each other in our grief.
But everything changed the day I heard her whisper to my daughter, “I’ll take you from her.”
That was the moment I knew I had to fight with everything I had.
I stood at the edge of the grave, holding Lila in my arms. Her tiny fingers clutched the collar of my coat like she was scared the wind might take her too. The cold cut through my clothes, but I didn’t feel it. I was already frozen inside.
The priest’s voice droned behind me, distant and echoing like it came from under water. I wasn’t really listening. My eyes were fixed on the coffin, already lowered into the dirt. Eric was down there. My husband. My best friend. The man who held my heart.
Now he was gone.
I wanted to crawl down into that hole with him. I wanted to lie beside him, hold his hand one last time. We built a life together. We laughed, cried, argued, loved. We raised our little girl.
How was the world still spinning without him?
But I couldn’t fall apart. Not now. Not with Lila clinging to me, her face tucked into my neck, the only thing anchoring me to the earth.
Eric had been killed in a car crash. A stranger, someone rushing and careless, had run a red light. In one terrible second, my whole life shattered. I still saw the flashing ambulance lights every time I closed my eyes. I still heard my own scream when the hospital called.
Lila shifted in my arms. Her voice was small and shaky. “Mommy… why are they putting Daddy in the ground? He won’t be able to breathe.”
My throat closed. I kissed the top of her soft little head. “He’s not hurting anymore, baby,” I said gently. “He’s just… resting.”
She whimpered, “But it’s dark down there. He’ll be cold. Please don’t let them do this.”
I hugged her tighter, my heart breaking in a million sharp pieces. But I couldn’t protect her from this. I couldn’t protect either of us.
The ride home was silent. Sylvia sat in the front seat, her face like stone. Lila finally cried herself to sleep in the back. I carried her inside the house that still smelled like Eric. His jacket still hung by the door. His toothbrush was still in the cup.
He should be here, I thought. This should never have happened.
Sylvia peeled off her gloves. “I’ll make some tea,” she said softly.
I nodded and took Lila to her room. She didn’t wake. I brushed her hair back and stood there, watching her chest rise and fall. The one piece of Eric I still had.
When I returned to the kitchen, tea was waiting on the table. I sat down slowly, my hands trembling. I didn’t want Sylvia to see me falling apart.
She placed a hand on my back. “You can’t do this alone, Dana.”
I sighed. “I don’t have a choice.”
“There is a choice,” she said. “Come live with me. You and Lila.”
I blinked. I wasn’t expecting that. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Memories rushed back—how she used to look at me like I didn’t belong. How she called me “that girl” behind Eric’s back. I was never the woman she wanted for her son.
“Dana?” she asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Sorry. I was just remembering.”
“I know it’s hard,” she said. “But this house will only remind you of him. It’ll keep you stuck. At my place, you’ll have peace. Stability.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have the strength to argue. So I nodded.
“Okay. We’ll come.”
Sylvia’s house was huge, quiet, and spotless. She’d already prepared rooms—one for me, one for Lila. Her room was bright and full of toys. New bedding. Pictures on the wall. Everything perfectly arranged.
At first, I thought it was kind. But then I noticed something strange.
“Why is Lila’s room next to yours?” I asked. “Why not mine?”
Sylvia answered quickly. “That’s just how the layout worked. It doesn’t matter. We’re all under the same roof.”
But something felt off. My gut twisted, but I didn’t have the energy to fight about it.
That night, Lila sobbed and refused to sleep alone. “Please don’t leave, Mommy,” she cried. “Please don’t go.”
I brought her into my bed. She cried until she fell asleep, her small body pressed against me. I lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, listening to her breathe.
The next morning, Sylvia caught me in the hallway before breakfast.
“You shouldn’t sleep in the same bed with her,” she said, her voice low but firm.
“She needed me,” I said. “And I needed her.”
“She’s becoming too attached,” Sylvia snapped. “It’s not healthy.”
“It’s just for now,” I said quietly.
“I’m hiring a full-time nanny. Starting today.”
I blinked. “No. I can take care of my daughter.”
“This isn’t a discussion. You need to focus on your recovery.”
I didn’t say another word. I just walked away.
Over the next few weeks, I started to lose Lila. Bit by bit. First she stopped asking me for help. Then she stopped hugging me. Then she started asking for Sylvia instead of me.
And then came the worst moment of all.
One afternoon, she looked me in the eye and said, “I don’t need you.”
My heart cracked open.
That night, I went to tuck her in. As soon as I entered the room, she backed away and screamed.
“No! I don’t want you! I want Grandma!”
I stood frozen in the doorway. “Sweetheart… please…”
“Get out!” she sobbed.
I backed out of the room, legs shaking. I collapsed in the hallway, covering my mouth so she wouldn’t hear me cry.
Sylvia appeared like a shadow. “What’s going on?” she asked calmly.
“She doesn’t want me,” I whispered.
“I’ll take care of it,” she said.
But I didn’t go to bed. I stood right outside and listened.
Sylvia’s voice turned gentle. “Don’t worry, baby. Everything will be okay.”
Then I heard something that made my blood run cold.
“I will take you from her.”
Lila sniffled. “Because she’s a bad mommy?”
“Yes,” Sylvia answered. “She’s not good for you.”
I stood frozen. When she came out of the room, I was waiting.
“Are you insane?!” I yelled.
She blinked. “Keep your voice down. You’ll wake her.”
“You want to take her from me!”
“She’s all I have left,” she said coldly. “And yes, Dana. I will take her. You have no job. No home. No evidence of anything.”
I gritted my teeth. “That’s not true. Eric signed the house over to us. It belongs to me and Lila.”
She smirked. “Go find the papers. Oh wait—those were destroyed.”
I didn’t sleep that night. I lay awake, planning, panicking, praying.
The next morning, she called me into the living room. A man in a suit was waiting.
“This is my lawyer,” she said. “We’ve already filed for custody.”
My stomach dropped. “Why?! We’re living with you. Lila is safe.”
“I tolerated you for Eric’s sake,” she said. “Now I’m fixing what he never could.”
I ran back to my room and tore through every drawer, every pocket. And then I found it—a business card.
Kline. Attorney at Law.
I called.
“It’s happening, isn’t it?” he said as soon as he picked up.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Come in,” he said.
When I got there, he let me sit and catch my breath. “Tell me everything.”
“She’s trying to take Lila. She destroyed the deed. She says I have nothing.”
Kline gave me a knowing smile. “Are you sure about that?”
He opened a folder and showed me a copy of the deed and Eric’s will.
“Eric gave me everything. Just in case. The house is legally his. And in his will, it all goes to you and Lila.”
“Can I win?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“You will,” he said with certainty.
At the custody hearing, Sylvia’s lawyer painted me as a failure. No income. No home. No stability.
Then Kline stood and calmly said, “Your Honor, the home in question was legally transferred to Eric before his death. And per his will, everything goes to his wife and daughter.”
Gasps rippled through the courtroom. Sylvia’s mask cracked. The judge looked at her with narrowed eyes.
“I rule in favor of the mother,” the judge said.
Outside the courthouse, Sylvia approached me, eyes like daggers.
“How did you manage this?” she hissed.
“Eric knew exactly who you were,” I said. “He made sure we were protected.”
She stepped closer. “This isn’t over.”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “It is. You’re never coming near my daughter again.”
I carried Lila to the car. As I buckled her in, she looked up with big, worried eyes.
“Mommy… are you going to give me away? Grandma said…”
I kissed her forehead. “Never. I just fought the biggest battle of my life to make sure no one ever takes you away.”
She threw her arms around my neck and held on tight.
We didn’t go back to Sylvia’s house.
We went home.
The house Eric left for us. The one he made sure we’d have. The place where I’d raise our daughter with love, strength, and the memory of the man who made us a family.
