Two years after Elizabeth’s death, my daughter Mia began claiming her mother visited her at school. At first, I thought it was her way of coping, but then Mia brought home chocolates I didn’t pack, and her drawings of Elizabeth became too detailed to ignore.
Elizabeth had been an incredible wife and mother, and her loss left a void in our lives. Mia and I were slowly adjusting to the grief until she announced one day that Mommy visited her at school, bringing chocolates. I was stunned. Mia was too young to fully understand her mother’s passing, but her certainty made me question everything.
Then, Mia’s drawings started to show incredible accuracy—Elizabeth with her chestnut hair and blue dress. And the chocolates kept appearing, unaccounted for. Desperate for answers, I called Mia’s school, only to learn a woman resembling Elizabeth had been speaking to Mia outside.
I decided to investigate. The next day, I saw her—a woman standing by the schoolyard, her face obscured by a hat. When I approached her, she ran. I chased her down, cornering her behind the school.
“I’m not who you think I am,” she said. “I’m Angelina, Elizabeth’s twin sister.”
I was shocked. Elizabeth had never mentioned a twin. Angelina explained that she had been sold to another family at birth, and only recently discovered her true identity through hospital records. She had lost her own daughter in a tragic accident and found solace in Mia, who resembled her late child.
Angelina admitted her mistake, promising to tell Mia the truth. The next day, we sat Mia down. Angelina explained she wasn’t her mother, but her aunt. Mia, confused, still held on to the idea that Angelina was somehow her mother. But over time, Mia accepted the truth, and Angelina became a loving presence in our lives—not as a replacement, but as a part of our family.
In her, Mia found a connection to the mother she’d lost, and I found someone who understood my grief. Together, we began to heal, building something new from our broken past.
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