On our wedding night, just as my husband and I lay together, the door slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. Daniel’s mother, Margaret, stood in the doorway, breathless and shaking. Her wide, terrified eyes locked onto mine.
“STOP!” she cried, her voice trembling with urgency.
I froze. My heart pounded against my ribs. Daniel sat up beside me, his face a mask of confusion.
“Mom?” he said, his voice laced with worry. “What’s wrong?”
Margaret clutched the doorframe, her knuckles white. “You can’t… you can’t have a child.”
A heavy silence fell over the room. My stomach twisted into knots.
“What are you talking about?” Daniel asked, glancing at me in confusion.
Margaret took a shaky step forward. “I need to tell you something,” she whispered. Her voice cracked, and for the first time, I saw real fear in her eyes.
“You might be brother and sister.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath caught in my throat. The room tilted, the walls closing in around me.
No. No, that couldn’t be true.
Daniel’s face drained of color. “Mom, that’s impossible,” he said, his voice almost desperate.
Margaret shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I just spent an hour talking to Mrs. Reynolds,” she choked out.
I flinched at the name. Mrs. Reynolds had been the closest thing I ever had to a mother. If she had told Margaret something, it had to be true.
Margaret sucked in a breath, her body trembling. “I never told anyone this before—not my husband, not my son. But twenty-two years ago, I left my newborn baby on the doorstep of an orphanage.”
A ringing filled my ears. The world blurred.
No.
Margaret kept talking, but I could barely process the words. “I was young. I was scared. My boyfriend at the time convinced me we were too poor to raise a child. I didn’t know what else to do. I walked up to a shelter, placed my baby on the doorstep, knocked, and ran.” She let out a hollow, broken laugh. “And then… I never looked back.”
My vision blurred. The same shelter where I grew up. The same shelter where I was found as a baby. My entire body went cold.
“I never told anyone,” Margaret whispered. “I married another man. I had Daniel. And I buried the past. But then I met you, Emma. And tonight, when Mrs. Reynolds told me about a baby girl who was found that night, I started doing the math. The years. The timing. And I realized… it’s you.”
I couldn’t breathe. My fingers dug into the bedsheet as if it could anchor me to reality.
Margaret turned to Daniel, sobbing. “I had to stop you before—before—” She covered her face with her hands, her entire body shaking.
I needed to get out. I needed air.
“I—I need to go,” I choked, stumbling to my feet.
Daniel reached for me, but I pulled away. I ran.
The balcony door slid open, and I stepped outside, gripping the railing as the cold night air hit my face. My stomach twisted, my head pounded.
This couldn’t be happening.
A moment later, I heard footsteps. Daniel.
“Emma…” he said softly.
I turned to him, my eyes filling with tears. “What if it’s true?” I whispered.
Daniel swallowed hard. “We don’t know that yet.”
I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to breathe through the panic. “How do we fix this?”
Daniel didn’t answer. Because if it was true, there was no fixing it.
The night dragged on. Margaret sat in the hotel room, arms wrapped around herself, staring at nothing. At some point, I heard her whisper, “I’m so sorry.”
By morning, the answer was clear.
“We need to take a DNA test,” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me.
Margaret nodded immediately. “First thing this morning.”
We arrived at the clinic, the air thick with tension. None of us spoke. The test was done quickly—a simple swab, then waiting. Endless waiting.
Finally, the doctor walked in, holding a thin, manila folder.
My breath caught in my throat.
“The results are in,” he said, flipping open the folder. He scanned the page, then looked up.
“You are not related.”
The words didn’t register at first. The tension in my chest didn’t ease until I saw Daniel’s shoulders slump in relief. My knees wobbled. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Margaret broke into sobs. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, pressing her hands to her face. “I’m so sorry. I—I thought—”
She couldn’t finish.
Daniel reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly. I squeezed back.
The nightmare was over. But the truth remained.
Margaret had a daughter somewhere out there. A girl who had been abandoned, just like me. A girl who had no idea that her mother had just spent the last 24 hours falling apart over her.
Margaret wiped her face, determination settling into her features. “I have to do this,” she said firmly. “I have to find her.”
Daniel nodded. “We’ll help you.”
I squeezed his hand, my heart finally steady. “All of us will.”
Margaret had lost a daughter once. She wasn’t going to lose her again.
