Something Wasn’t Right
When I returned, Sophie ran to me, holding on as if she were afraid I might vanish.
“She locks herself in the attic, Daddy,” she said, her voice trembling. “And I hear noises. It’s scary.”
I knelt in front of her. “What kind of noises?”
“Scratching. Whispering. And she says I can’t go in there.”
My stomach twisted.
Was I imagining things? Amelia had always been gentle—patient, even. But she had been disappearing into the attic a lot. And if Sophie was uneasy…
Had I made a mistake? Had I invited someone into our lives who wasn’t who she seemed?
That night, as I tucked Sophie in, she pressed her tiny hand against the attic door.
“What’s in there, Daddy?”
I didn’t have an answer.
The Secret in the Attic
Sleep didn’t come that night. I lay beside Amelia, staring at the ceiling, listening.
Then, sometime past midnight, she slipped out of bed.
I waited a moment before following.
From the bottom of the staircase, I watched as she unlocked the attic door and slipped inside.
She didn’t lock it behind her.
Acting on impulse, I hurried up the stairs and pushed the door open.
What I saw stopped me cold.
The attic had been transformed.
Soft pastel walls. Shelves lined with Sophie’s favorite books. A cozy window seat piled with pillows. An easel stood in the corner, art supplies neatly arranged. Fairy lights twinkled along the ceiling, casting a warm glow over a small table set for tea.
Amelia spun around, startled.
“I… I wanted it to be a surprise,” she stammered. “For Sophie.”
I took it all in, my chest tightening.
“It’s beautiful, Amelia,” I said, but the knot in my stomach remained. “But Sophie says you’ve been distant. Why?”
Her face fell.
“I thought… I was helping her be independent,” she whispered. “I just wanted to do everything right.”
She sank onto the window seat, eyes shining with unshed tears.
“I know I’ll never replace Sarah. I wasn’t trying to. I just wanted to be a good mother.” Her voice cracked. “But I’ve been doing everything wrong, haven’t I?”
I sat beside her. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be here.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I keep thinking about my own mother. She was strict. Everything had to be just so. I started channeling her without even realizing it. I wanted to make this attic special for Sophie, but… I forgot what really mattered.”
She gestured at the carefully arranged books, the flawless little tea set. “I forgot that kids need mess. And laughter.”
She wiped at her eyes. “She doesn’t need a perfect room. She just needs love.”
The Family We Were Becoming
The next evening, we brought Sophie up to the attic. She hesitated in the doorway, glancing up at me.
Amelia knelt beside her. “I’m sorry if I scared you, sweetheart. I was so busy trying to be a good mom that I forgot how to just… be here for you. But I want to do better. Will you let me show you something special?”
Sophie peeked around me, curiosity winning over caution.
When she saw the room, she gasped. “Is this… is this for me?”
Amelia nodded, her smile uncertain.
“And I promise,” she said softly, “from now on, we’ll do things together. And maybe we can share a treat while we read.”
Sophie was silent for a moment. Then she launched herself into Amelia’s arms.
“Thank you, new mommy,” she whispered. “I love it.”
Amelia hugged her tight. “Can we have tea parties up here?” Sophie asked, eyes sparkling.
“With real tea?”
“Hot chocolate,” Amelia corrected with a laugh. “And cookies. Lots of cookies.”
That night, as I tucked Sophie into bed, she pulled me close and whispered, “New mom’s not scary. She’s nice.”
I kissed her forehead, feeling the last of my doubts melt away.
Our path to becoming a family wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But watching my wife and my daughter curl up in that attic the next day, sharing stories and laughter, I knew one thing for certain.
We were going to be just fine.