Lucy had never been close with her mother, and the strained silence between them had only deepened over the years. So when her father asked her to help pack up her estranged mother’s things, she felt a mix of resentment and obligation.
The car ride to her parents’ house was thick with tension, the rhythmic hum of tires on asphalt doing little to ease the frustration between them.
“Why do I have to do this on my day off?” Lucy snapped, arms crossed and eyes fixed out the window.
“Because your mother needs help, Lucy,” her dad’s voice came out sharp. “Can’t you just do this for her?”
Lucy’s voice wavered with resentment. “You know the history. Why should I go out of my way for someone who has nothing to do with me anymore?”
Her father shot her a look. “You’re just as stubborn as she is,” he said, clearly trying to keep his temper in check.
Lucy’s eyes flared. “Stubborn? Dad, she ruined my life. You don’t get it. All I ever wanted was for her to be proud of me, but it was never enough!”
“She did what she did because she loves you, Lucy.”
Lucy snorted, turning her gaze away from him. “Funny how things got better the moment I stopped talking to her.”
They arrived at the house. Lucy’s heart was a storm of emotions, but she pushed it all down as she stepped into the old, familiar house. It smelled like dust, like memories. As she started packing, her hands moving mechanically from item to item, she felt her anger melt into frustration. The list her dad had given her seemed simple enough: a lamp, some dishes, photo albums, valuables from the safe.
But at the bottom of the list, in tiny handwriting, one sentence stopped her cold: Do not show Lucy.
Curiosity sparked. Her heart raced as she scanned the list again. What could her parents be hiding from her? Her mind raced as she found the safe, her fingers trembling as she punched in the code. The heavy click echoed in the room. There, nestled in the back of the safe among some jewelry, was something wrapped in old paper—a videotape.
Her curiosity got the better of her. She slipped it into her coat pocket and continued packing, determined to know what was on it.
Later that night, after they had finished at the house and her father had gone to visit her mother at the nursing home, Lucy sat down in front of the ancient VCR, the tape heavy in her hands. The grainy footage flickered to life on the screen.
It was her parents, younger, smiling, laughing together. Her mother held the camera, and her dad played with a little girl who looked so much like Lucy—same hair, same smile. But then Lucy froze. Her mother’s voice called out, “Chloe, come here, Chloe, you’re so clever!”
Chloe?
Lucy’s pulse spiked. She’d never heard her parents mention a Chloe. Her name was Lucy. Who was this girl?
The video ended, but Lucy could barely process what she had seen. She needed answers, and there was only one place to get them.
She found herself driving back to the nursing home, the weight of the tape pressing in her pocket. The receptionist greeted her with a warm smile, but when she heard Lucy’s name, her face lit up with surprise. “Oh, your mom talks about you all the time. She’s been asking for you.”
Lucy’s heart clenched, but she kept her distance. When she entered her mother’s room, she found Todd sitting by the window. The shock on both of their faces was palpable.
“Hi, Mom,” Lucy said, forcing herself to sound calm. “We need to talk.”
She pulled the tape from her bag, holding it up. “I found this in the safe. Why does it say ‘Do not show Lucy’?”
Her mother’s face drained of color, and she started to tremble. “Lucy… I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to find out like this.”
Lucy’s mind raced, her heart hammering in her chest. “What is this about?”
Her mother wiped away a tear. “Chloe was our first daughter. She died in a car accident when she was just a little girl. You were adopted, Lucy. We brought you home when you were a baby. We loved you so much, and we promised ourselves we would never tell you. To us, you’ve always been our daughter.”
The words hit Lucy like a tidal wave. She sat back, feeling disoriented, and tried to make sense of everything. But looking at her mother, the woman who had given her life and love, she felt only a profound sense of relief.
“You’re my mom,” Lucy whispered, the weight lifting from her chest. “That’s all that matters.”
For the first time in years, she wrapped her arms around her mother, and for the first time, she felt the bond she’d always longed for.