After a year away, Alex returns home to a shocking discovery: a baby in his kitchen and three distressing letters. One claims the child is his, another accuses him of infidelity, and the third warns him to stay silent. Now plunged into chaos, Alex must uncover the truth before it’s too late.
I had been eagerly awaiting my return home after nearly a year working overseas on a demanding engineering project. The thought of seeing Jennifer again had kept me going through those long, grueling months.
But as I pulled into the driveway, something felt off. The house looked the same, but an eerie stillness lingered. Shaking off the feeling as jet lag, I stepped inside.
“Jen?” I called out, my voice echoing through the empty house. A sense of dread crept over me.
I wandered through the rooms until I reached the kitchen. That’s when I saw it.
A wicker basket sat on the counter, filled with what I first thought were blankets. But as I approached, I realized it wasn’t just blankets—it was a baby. A tiny, sleeping baby.
My mind raced as I noticed three envelopes beside the basket. With trembling hands, I opened the first letter.
“Dear Alex,” it began. “This is Lily, your daughter. I know this is a shock, but it’s true. She’s yours. Mila.”
Mila? The name was unfamiliar, and the idea of having a secret child was unthinkable. This had to be a mistake.
I quickly opened the second letter.
“Alex, by the time you read this, I’ll be gone. I can’t believe you would do this to us. I’ve filed for divorce. Don’t try to find me. Jennifer.”
The room spun. Jennifer thought I had cheated on her—with this Mila person? It wasn’t true!
The third letter was the most terrifying: “Don’t call the police, or you’ll regret it.”
My legs nearly buckled. I sank into a chair, the weight of the situation crashing down on me.
I stared at Lily, still peacefully asleep, oblivious to the chaos that had just torn my life apart. Who would do this? And why?
Feeling desperate, I searched through old emails and texts, eventually finding a message from “Mila” in a junk folder. It had seemed like spam at the time, but now it felt like the start of a twisted plan.
The email was brief but chilling: “Your wife thinks she knows everything, but she doesn’t. We’ll see how well you handle the truth when you return. Mila.”
My mind raced, trying to piece things together. Then a name popped into my head: Kate, Jennifer’s best friend. She had always been a little too interested in our marriage. Could she be behind this?
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