I rang the doorbell, heart steady but mind racing. A small girl with chestnut hair and wide eyes answered, her face oddly familiar.
“Is your mom home?” I asked.
“She’s baking cookies,” the girl replied. “Do you want one?”
Behind me, Belinda arrived, and the girl rushed to her. “Aunt Belinda! I missed you!”
A woman appeared at the door—Nina. Her gaze flicked from Belinda to me. “You shouldn’t be here,” she hissed.
“I think we have things to discuss,” I replied, recalling how she’d taken my granddaughter.
Nina’s face hardened. “I protected Belinda and raised her when you didn’t.”
Before the argument could escalate, Scooter’s voice broke through, followed by Nina’s order for Daisy to play outside.
“Let’s get this over with,” Nina muttered as we entered, just as Harold’s smooth voice followed, making Nina collapse in shock.
Hours later at the hospital, we waited for Nina’s surgery news. When the doctor confirmed she’d made it through but needed a blood transfusion, I volunteered my own.
Nina stirred. “Who’s Scooter?”
“Greg’s son,” I said, explaining Belinda couldn’t have children and Daisy was caught in the middle.
Nina, holding on to Daisy, whispered, “I can’t lose her.”
Greg and the rest of the family arrived, but a nurse eventually kicked everyone out. Harold stayed behind, offering Nina support, and after some hesitation, she agreed to stay with him and fix things with Belinda.
Two weeks later, the house was full of life—Nina moved in with Harold, and Daisy had settled into her new roles with both Nina and Belinda. The evening was light, laughter echoing, but just as dinner settled, a knock at the door sent everyone into silence.
Patrick, my ex, stood grinning with a bouquet, announcing he’d “found me.” His energy and interruptions left us all bewildered.
“Who was that?” Greg asked.
Harold eyed him, “Should I throw him out?”
Scooter, notebook in hand, murmured, “This feels like the start of another mystery.”
And I rubbed my temples. He wasn’t wrong.
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