When I arrived at the hospital to bring home my wife and newborn twins, I was met with heartbreak: Suzie was gone, leaving only a cryptic note. As I juggled caring for the babies and unraveling the truth, I discovered the dark secrets that tore my family apart.
As I drove to the hospital, the balloons bobbed beside me in the passenger seat. My smile was unstoppable. Today, I was bringing home my girls!
A man driving a car | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t wait to see Suzie’s face light up when she saw the nursery, the dinner I’d cooked, the photos I’d framed for the mantle. She deserved joy after nine long months of back pain, morning sickness, and an endless carousel of my overbearing mother’s opinions.
It was the culmination of every dream I’d had for us.
I waved to the nurses at the station as I hurried to Suzie’s room. But when I pushed through the door, I froze in surprise.
A man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney
My daughters were sleeping in their bassinets, but Suzie was gone. I thought she might have stepped out for fresh air, but then I saw the note. I tore it open, my hands trembling.
“Goodbye. Take care of them. Ask your mother WHY she did this to me.”
The world blurred as I reread it. And reread it. The words didn’t shift, didn’t morph into something less terrible. A coldness prickled along my skin, freezing me in place.
A man reading a note | Source: Midjourney
What the hell did she mean? Why would she… no. This couldn’t be happening. Suzie was happy. She’d been happy. Hadn’t she?
A nurse carrying a clipboard entered the room. “Good morning, sir, here’s the discharge —”
“Where’s my wife?” I interrupted.
The nurse hesitated, biting her lip. “She checked out this morning. She said you knew.”
A nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Pexels
“She — where did she go?” I stammered to the nurse, waving the note. “Did she say anything else? Was she upset?”
The nurse frowned. “She seemed fine. Just… quiet. Are you saying you didn’t know?”
I shook my head. “She said nothing… just left me this note.”
I left the hospital in a daze, cradling my daughters, the note crumpled in my fist.
A worried man leaving a hospital | Source: Midjourney
Suzie was gone. My wife, my partner, the woman I’d thought I knew, had vanished without a word of warning. All I had were two tiny girls, my shattered plans, and that ominous message.
When I pulled into the driveway, my mom, Mandy, was waiting on the porch, beaming and holding a casserole dish. The scent of cheesy potatoes wafted toward me, but it did nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside.
“Oh, let me see my grandbabies!” she exclaimed, setting the dish aside and rushing toward me. “They’re beautiful, Ben, absolutely beautiful.”
An excited woman | Source: Midjourney
I stepped back, holding the car seat protectively. “Not yet, Mom.”
Her face faltered, confusion knitting her brow. “What’s wrong?”
I shoved the note in her direction. “This is what’s wrong! What did you do to Suzie?”
Her smile vanished, and she took the note with shaking fingers. Her pale blue eyes scanned the words, and for a moment, she looked like she might faint.
A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney
“Ben, I don’t know what this is about,” Mom replied. “She’s… she’s always been emotional. Maybe she —”
“Don’t lie to me!” The words erupted, my voice echoing off the porch walls. “You’ve never liked her. You’ve always found ways to undermine her, criticize her —”
“I’ve only ever tried to help!” Her voice broke, tears spilling over her cheeks.
I turned away, my gut churning. I couldn’t trust her words anymore. Whatever had happened between them had driven Suzie to leave. And now I was left to pick up the pieces.
A man carrying twin babies into a house | Source: Midjourney
That night, after settling Callie and Jessica in their cribs, I sat at the kitchen table with the note in one hand and a whiskey in the other. My mother’s protests rang in my ears, but I couldn’t let them drown out the question looping in my mind: What did you do, Mom?
I thought back to our family gatherings, and the small barbs my mother would throw Suzie’s way. Suzie had laughed them off, but I could see now, too late, how they must have cut her.
I started digging, both literally and metaphorically.
A man searching through a closet | Source: Midjourney
My sorrow and longing for my missing wife deepened as I looked through her things. I found her jewelry box in the closet and set it aside, then noticed a slip of paper peeking out beneath the lid.
When I opened it, I found a letter to Suzie in my mother’s handwriting. My heart pounded as I read:
“Suzie, you’ll never be good enough for my son. You’ve trapped him with this pregnancy, but don’t think for a second you can fool me. If you care about them, you’ll leave before you ruin their lives.”
A man reading a letter | Source: Midjourney
My hand shook as I dropped the letter. This was it. This was why she’d left. My mother had been tearing her down behind my back. I replayed every interaction, every moment I’d dismissed as harmless. How blind had I been?
It was almost midnight, but I didn’t care. I went to the guest room and banged on the door until Mom opened it.
“How could you?” I waved the letter in her face. “All this time, I thought you were just being overbearing, but no, you’ve been bullying Suzie for years, haven’t you?”
An angry man holding a letter | Source: Midjourney
Her face paled as she scanned the letter. “Ben, listen to me —”
“No!” I cut her off. “You listen to me. Suzie left because of you. Because you made her feel worthless. And now she’s gone, and I’m here trying to raise two babies on my own.”
“I only wanted to protect you,” she whispered. “She wasn’t good enough —”
“She’s the mother of my children! You don’t get to decide who’s good enough for me or them. You’re done here, Mom. Pack your things. Get out.”
A man pointing | Source: Midjourney
Her tears fell freely now. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” I said, cold as steel.
She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. The look in my eyes must have told her I wasn’t bluffing. She left an hour later, her car disappearing down the street.
The next weeks were hell.
A man with his head in his hands | Source: Midjourney
Between sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and endless crying (sometimes the babies, sometimes me) I barely had time to think.
But every quiet moment brought Suzie back to my mind. I contacted her friends and family, hoping for any hint of where she might be. None of them had heard from her. But one, her college friend Sara, hesitated before speaking.
“She talked about feeling… trapped,” Sara admitted over the phone. “Not by you, Ben, but by everything. The pregnancy, your mom. She told me once that Mandy said the twins would be better off without her.”
A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
The knife twisted deeper. “Why didn’t she tell me my mom was saying these things to her?”
“She was scared, Ben. She thought Mandy might turn you against her. I told her to talk to you, but…” Sara’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I should’ve pushed harder.”
“Do you think she’s okay?”
“I hope so,” Sara said quietly. “Suzie’s stronger than she thinks. But Ben… keep looking for her.”
Weeks turned into months.
A man rocking a baby | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, while Callie and Jessica napped, my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unlisted number.
When I opened it, my breath caught. It was a photo of Suzie, holding the twins at the hospital, her face pale but serene. Beneath it was a message:
“I wish I was the type of mother they deserve. I hope you forgive me.”
I called the number immediately, but it didn’t go through.
A man making a phone call | Source: Midjourney
I texted back, but my messages didn’t go through either. It was like shouting into a void. But the photo reignited my determination. Suzie was out there. She was alive and at least a part of her still longed for us, even though she was clearly still in a bad place. I’d never give up on her.
A year passed with no leads or clues to Suzie’s whereabouts. The twins’ first birthday was bittersweet. I’d poured everything into raising them, but the ache for Suzie never left.
That evening, as the girls played in the living room, there was a knock at the door.
A home entrance interior | Source: Pexels
I thought I was dreaming at first. Suzie stood there, clutching a small gift bag, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked healthier, her cheeks were fuller, and her posture was more confident. But the sadness was still there, hovering behind her smile.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I didn’t think. I pulled her into my arms, holding her as tightly as I dared. She sobbed into my shoulder, and for the first time in a year, I felt whole.
A man hugging a woman | Source: Midjourney
Over the following weeks, Suzie told me how the postpartum depression, my mom’s cruel words, and her feelings of inadequacy had overwhelmed her.
She’d left to protect the twins and to escape the spiral of self-loathing and despair. Therapy had helped her rebuild, one painstaking step at a time.
“I didn’t want to leave,” she said one night, sitting on the nursery floor as the girls slept. “But I didn’t know how to stay.”
A woman sitting on a nursery floor | Source: Midjourney
I took her hand. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
And we did. It wasn’t easy — healing never is. But love, resilience, and the shared joy of watching Callie and Jessica grow were enough to rebuild what we’d almost lost.
Man Finds a Smashed Phone on the Roadside—When He Inserts the SIM Card Into His Own Phone and Calls ‘Daughter,’ His Heart Stops
They usually say curiosity got the cat, but in my situation, it helped a desperate family find the help they had needed for a long time. My curiosity on the day I found that broken phone also ended up leading to a happy life I never anticipated.
It was a crisp morning when I stepped out of my house, the autumn air cool against my face. My mother, Helen, had already started breakfast, and like every morning, I was on my way to the bakery to pick up fresh rolls for her. Little did I know that this was going to be a very eventful day for both of us.
A man and his mother | Source: Midjourney
It was my mother’s and my little tradition to have breakfast together—something that made our small world feel stable. You’re probably wondering why a 30-year-old successful man would live with his mother.
See, I never knew my father. He’d abandoned my mother when she told him about her pregnancy. So my mother was as lonely as I was, and to prevent that, we decided to live together.
A man living with his mother | Source: Midjourney
What about my romantic life, you ask? Well, I’m not exactly a social butterfly—never have been. My lack of conventional good looks also means that dating has always been a struggle, and I’d long given up trying. Instead, I poured myself into my programming work, spending my days coding and my nights tinkering with gadgets.
That morning, as I strolled down the sidewalk, my sneaker scuffed against something hard. I looked down and saw it—a phone, its screen shattered like a spiderweb, lying in the grass just off the curb.
A broken phone | Source: Midjourney
With my curiosity piqued, I picked it up. The casing was dented, the back partially peeled off, as if it had been run over by a car. It wasn’t a model worth much—an older keypad phone, the kind you only saw in hands that couldn’t afford better.
I turned it over in my hand, seeing an interesting challenge. “Maybe I can fix it,” I murmured.
Slipping it into my pocket, I continued to the bakery, but the phone was on my mind the entire time. It wasn’t just the damage—it was the way it was just lying there, abandoned, as if someone had discarded it in a hurry.
A man at a bakery | Source: Midjourney
By the time I arrived back home, I had forgotten about the broken phone tucked into my pocket. My mom and I had the delicious breakfast she prepared before we set about our Saturday. Remembering the broken phone, I pulled out my own and removed its SIM card.
If the old phone was dead, maybe the SIM card inside still worked, I thought. I carefully slid it into my backup phone and powered it on. A list of contacts appeared. Most were hospitals, schools, and emergency services. Only one number was marked as a favorite—”Daughter.”
A man looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney
Something tightened in my chest. Who had lost this phone? And why did it seem like the only person they truly cared about was this “Daughter”? On impulse, I dialed the number. It rang once. Then twice.
A small, excited voice eventually answered. “Mom?!”
My breath caught. “I—no, I’m not your mom. I’m sorry for calling,” I quickly replied, ready to drop the call, but the next thing the little girl said made me pause.
“Where is she?” Her voice wavered slightly.
A worried man on a call | Source: Midjourney
“Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” I admitted. “I found a broken phone and used its SIM card. Who are you?” I asked curiously, sensing that something was wrong.
The girl hesitated. “Julie. My mom went to the store yesterday and didn’t come back,” she revealed, her voice cracking with emotion.
A cold feeling spread through me. “Julie, where’s your dad, grandma, or anyone I can speak to?”
“I don’t have a dad,” she said softly. “Or a grandma. Just Mom.”
I swallowed. “Do you know where you live?”
“Independence Street. Building seven, apartment 18.”
A rundown apartment building | Source: Midjourney
My hands gripped the phone tighter. “Okay, Julie, are you okay? Are you alone right now?”
“Yes, I’m okay and alone,” she whispered. “But my legs don’t work. I can’t leave.”
I stood abruptly. “Your legs—what do you mean?”
“I have a wheelchair,” she said simply. “But it’s hard to move with no one around to help me. I’m scared.”
I didn’t hesitate as my protective instincts kicked in. “Julie, listen carefully. My name is Alan, and I’m coming to get you. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
“Okay,” she replied weakly before I dropped the phone.
A little girl on a call | Source: Midjourney
My mother, who had been listening, immediately grabbed her coat. “You’re not going alone,” she said firmly. “If there’s a child in trouble, we need to help.”
This wasn’t how I had imagined spending my weekend, but it felt like the right thing to do. Finding that phone when I did was fate. We caught a cab and arrived at the apartment complex in less than fifteen minutes.
It was a run-down building, the kind with flickering hallway lights and mailboxes stuffed with overdue bills.
I held my breath as I knocked on Apartment Eighteen, uncertain of what I’d find.
A man about to knock on a door | Source: Midjourney
A soft, hesitant voice came through the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Alan,” I said. “I spoke to you on the phone.”
She replied, “The door’s open. Come in.”
The door creaked when I pushed it open just a few inches. A tiny and frail little girl, no older than six or seven, peered up at me from a wheelchair in the makeshift living room. Her hair was unkempt, her face pale and full of sadness, and she looked at me with tired, wide eyes.
My heart clenched.
A frail sad girl | Source: Midjourney
“Will you find my mom?” she asked, her voice trembling, tears in her eyes.
At that moment, I understood that the journey ahead would uncover truths I wasn’t ready to face, but it was too late to turn back now.
So I knelt in front of her and said, “We will, I promise. But first, let’s make sure you’re okay. Do you have food?”
She shook her head. “I ate a sandwich yesterday. That was the last one.”
“I’ll go find something in a bit,” I comforted her.
Taking a breath of resignation, I asked, “Julie, what’s your mom’s name?”
“Victoria,” she said softly. “She never leaves me alone this long.”
That only made my anxiety worse.
A anxious man | Source: Midjourney
“She is the best mom ever and usually returns when she goes out to run errands, but this time, she didn’t. I tried calling her, but her number didn’t go through. None of the neighbors would come to check on me because people here keep to themselves,” the little girl confessed.
My heart ached, and my mind raced. I realized that this wasn’t a simple case. Something was terribly wrong. Julie’s mother had gone missing, and now she was alone, in a wheelchair, unable to move properly, with no one to rely on.
A sad little girl in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney
But we were here now, so I said, “I’m going to look for food. My mom, Helen, will stay here with you, okay?”
“Okay,” Julie replied.
When I returned, my mother quickly prepared food for the little girl, who scarfed it down hungrily as we sat together. I knew we couldn’t waste time. We needed to find Victoria as soon as possible.
Whipping out my phone, I searched online, checking news reports, and my stomach dropped when I found it: a woman had been hit by a Ford yesterday on Parkova Street. She was in critical condition at a local hospital.
A woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney
I called immediately but had to ring more than once to get through the busy line.
“Yes,” the nurse who answered confirmed after I explained who I was and that I was with Victoria’s worried daughter. “She was admitted yesterday. She’s stable now but unconscious. We couldn’t reach any family.”
My chest tightened. “I’m coming,” I said without bothering to wait for a response.
My mother and I decided it would be best if we dropped Julie off at our apartment while we went to confirm whether the patient at the hospital was really her mother.
A nice apartment building | Source: Midjourney
We had to reassure Julie that she was safe with our friendly neighbor, Maureen, who gladly offered to watch her in our absence.
When Helen and I got to the hospital, I explained everything to the staff. The nurse hesitated but eventually said, “She just regained consciousness. She’s very weak, and her condition is still quite serious, but I’ll try talking to her about everything. Maybe she’ll want to see you.”
When the nurse returned, she had a hopeful smile. “She’s willing to see you, but please don’t take too long. She needs her rest.”
A happy nurse | Source: Midjourney
We entered her room cautiously. Victoria was pale, her face bruised. Her eyes fluttered open when I stepped closer.
“Who…?” she rasped.
“My name is Alan, and this is my mother, Helen,” I said gently. “I found your phone, and I spoke to Julie. She’s waiting for you.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Julie… is she okay?!”
I nodded. “She’s scared, but she’s alright. She’s been waiting for you to come home.”
Victoria turned away, guilt written all over her face. “I never wanted this.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I pulled up a chair. “Victoria, what happened?”
She swallowed. “I was hit on my way to get medicine for Julie. She has a condition… I’ve been trying to save up for surgery, but it’s impossible. I have no family. I was adopted as a child—no relatives, no safety net. I’m an orphan. It’s just been me and Julie for as long as I can remember.”
My heart ached for her.
“We weren’t supposed to be in this situation. After I divorced Julie’s abusive father, I was left with nothing, and I’ve been struggling ever since. My ex-husband and his family won’t help me, and I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
A mean-looking man | Source: Midjourney
She continued, her voice shaking. “I never wanted Julie to feel abandoned, but I was too scared to reach out for help. I thought if I kept quiet about our situation, maybe no one would find out how I’d failed as a parent.”
“I couldn’t afford a car, so I walked everywhere. Last night, I was hurrying home when the accident happened. I was so scared when I came to, not for myself, but because I knew Julie was alone,” she revealed.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I exhaled, gripping the arms of my chair. “You’re not alone anymore.”
Her gaze lifted, wary but hopeful.
I made a decision right then. “I’ll help you. Julie deserves a chance.”
I reached out to some contacts, and with the help of donations and a specialist, we arranged for Julie to have surgery. It was a long process, but one that changed everything.
A little girl ready for surgery | Source: Midjourney
Months later, I watched as Julie took her first steps. It was shaky, and she clung to my hand, but she was walking! Victoria, who had fully recovered, stood beside me, tears streaming down her face. She turned to me, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to,” I said.
A man and woman talking | Source: Midjourney
We became something more than just strangers who had crossed paths. Over time, Julie and I grew close, and my bond with her mother deepened because of the love we had for her. Eventually, our relationship turned into something deeper.
I never expected to have a family, but now, standing beside the woman I’d fallen in love with and married, and the little girl whom I had saved and adopted, I realized I had found one.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
A happy family | Source: Midjourney
Here’s another story to keep you entertained. When Charlotte’s fiancé failed to arrive on their wedding day, her world shattered into a million pieces. Finding strength in her friends and family, she made the most of the occasion and found something unexpected.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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