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My MIL Said My Daughter Was Not Really Family and Tried to Get Rid of Her, but She Regretted It Very Quickly
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Always an excuse. Always a reason I couldn’t hear her voice. The first day, I told myself it was just bad timing. The second day, I tried to stay calm. By the third day, my hands were shaking as I dialed.
Brian tried to calm me down. “You’re imagining things,” he said. “She’d call us if something was wrong.”
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“Would she?” I asked, bitter now. “Or would she let something happen just to prove a point?”
He didn’t answer. He looked away.
Then, on the fourth day, as we left our final meeting and walked to the car, Brian turned to me with a soft smile.
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“You see? Nothing bad happened.” He squeezed my hand. “Besides, we have good news. Maybe now Mom will come around.”
We got home late in the afternoon. The sun was low and orange in the sky as we pulled into Evelyn’s driveway.
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“Hi,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I leaned forward, trying to peer past her. “Where’s Sophie?”
“She’s fine,” Evelyn said, her face blank.
Brian stepped forward. “Can we come in?”
Evelyn didn’t respond. She stepped to the side without a word. We walked in fast.
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“Sophie?” I called.
We rushed through the living room. No sign of her. The couch cushions were untouched. The TV was off. We moved into the kitchen. The table was spotless.
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Not a crumb. No cup. No plate. Nothing of her. We ran upstairs. I pushed open the door to the guest room. The bed was perfectly made. Her bag was gone. Her pajamas were gone. Her bunny—gone.
“Where is she?” I asked, my voice shaking as I turned toward Evelyn, who stood calmly at the foot of the stairs with her arms crossed.
“I did you both a favor,” she said without blinking.
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Brian’s face lost all color. “Where is my daughter?!”
Evelyn lifted her chin. “She’s not your daughter. She’s someone else’s mistake. Now you can start fresh. With your own family.”
I lunged toward her, tears burning my eyes. “Where is she?!”
“She’s gone. I placed her somewhere better.”
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I stared at her, mouth dry. “Better? What does that even mean?”
“She’s always talking about tennis,” Evelyn said. “I enrolled her in a full-time program. A boarding school.”
“You what?” Brian shouted. “Are you out of your mind?!”
“She’s not your real child,” Evelyn snapped. “Now you can have your own.”
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“You listen to me—she is my child,” Brian said. “You had no right.”
“I had every right. I’m the only one thinking clearly.”
“You kidnapped her,” I whispered. “You stole our child!”
“You need to calm your wife down,” Evelyn told Brian.
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“I will not,” he said. “You’re the one who needs help. Where did you take her?”
Evelyn lifted her chin. “You’ll figure it out.”
“You’re insane,” I said. “You need help.”
She stood still, silent. We stormed out.
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We didn’t waste a second. That same night, we sat side by side at the kitchen table, laptops open, searching every sports boarding school in the region.
I typed until my fingers ached. Brian read names out loud while I called numbers. At seven the next morning, I spoke with the first school.
Then the next. And another. Brian dug through school directories like a man on a mission. It took hours.
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Finally, one of them confirmed it. Sophie was there. We drove straight out. Five hours without stopping.
When we arrived, the sun was low. Shadows stretched across the tennis courts. Then I saw her.
Sitting alone on a bench, small and still. When she saw us, she jumped up and ran. I dropped to my knees and caught her in my arms.
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“Mommy!” she cried as she threw her arms around my neck. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
“No, sweetheart,” I said, choking on tears. “That’s not true. We love you. We were looking everywhere for you.”
“She said I wasn’t really yours,” Sophie sobbed into my shoulder. “She said you were starting a real family. One that didn’t have me in it.”
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Brian knelt beside us and reached for her hand. “You are our real family,” he said. “You are our daughter. We’re never letting you go. Ever.”
Sophie nodded but didn’t speak. She just held on tighter.
On the way home, she curled up in the backseat and clutched her bunny close. I turned my head toward the window and stared into the dark road.
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“We have to finish this,” I said. “She’ll never stop unless we make it clear.”
Brian didn’t speak. He just nodded. We both knew what had to be done.
We pulled into Evelyn’s driveway just after dark. The porch light was on. She opened the door with a scowl.
“What now?” she snapped when she saw Sophie asleep in the car.
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I stepped forward. “You are never to come near our children, your grandchildren, again.”
She scoffed. “I don’t have grandchildren. So that’s not a loss. I’ll wait. You’ll divorce her eventually.
I smiled and placed my hand on my stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
Her face changed. Her eyes lit up. “Finally. My son’s first child.”
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Brian stepped forward. “No. My second. The first is waiting in the car. And you’re not seeing either of them again.”
“You have no right!” Evelyn shouted. “I am the grandmother!”
“You rejected your granddaughter,” Brian said. “You don’t deserve that title.”
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He turned his back and walked to the car.
Evelyn glared at me. “You destroyed everything. You turned him against me!”
“No,” I said quietly. “You did that yourself.”
And I walked away—to my daughter, my husband, my growing family. The family I chose. The family that chose me.
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