For three years, my neighbor Nelly barely left her house, hiding a child no one had ever seen. When I finally caught a glimpse through her window, my heart froze.
Nelly had been heavily pregnant when she moved in, yet no one ever saw her baby. Her isolation felt strange. My husband Evan shrugged it off, but I couldn’t shake the unease.
One day, I saw Nelly panic and slam the door when I tried to talk to her. Our nosy neighbor Mrs. Freddie tried to befriend her with pie but was rejected too.
Then, by chance, I found a letter meant for Nelly and peeked inside her house. There was a little boy with a birthmark identical to Evan’s. I collapsed in shock.
I confronted Nelly, who revealed the truth: four years ago, she’d had a secret affair with Evan, resulting in the boy, Tommy. Evan arranged for her to move next door, insisting she keep the child hidden.
Devastated by Evan’s betrayal, I served him divorce papers. Nelly and Tommy soon moved away. Though brokenhearted, I vowed to raise my sons with honesty and kindness, determined they’d be better than their father.