For three years, my neighbor Nelly barely left her house, living in isolation with a child no one had ever seen. The moment I glimpsed through her window, I understood why—and my heart stopped.
Something about Nelly always felt off. In three years, I’d only seen her outside for quick errands. She’d been visibly pregnant when she moved in, yet no one ever saw her baby. Unease gnawed at me, but my husband, Evan, dismissed my worries, chalking it up to her being private.
One evening, while watching Nelly’s house, I spotted a small face peering out her window, only for it to vanish in an instant. Days later, she bolted inside when I tried to greet her in her garden. Even our nosy neighbor, Mrs. Freddie, couldn’t break through Nelly’s icy demeanor.
Curiosity got the better of me when I found a misdelivered letter addressed to her. Approaching her door, I caught a glimpse through the window. My breath hitched—a little boy with a birthmark I recognized all too well stared back at me.
That birthmark was identical to my husband’s.
Confronting Nelly revealed the devastating truth. Four years ago, Evan had an affair with her, resulting in the boy, Tommy. To keep it hidden, Evan moved her next door, forbidding her to reveal the child or herself. The betrayal shattered me.
Evan returned home to find divorce papers waiting. When Nelly appeared with Tommy, his lies unraveled. Despite his pleas, I ended our marriage, determined to protect my children from his deception.
Nelly and Tommy moved away soon after. Though healing was painful, I vowed to raise my sons to be better men than their father, teaching them honesty, kindness, and respect. The past was unchangeable, but the future was ours to shape.
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