I Followed My Daughter, Expecting a Scandal, but Discovered a 10-Year-Old Secret from Our Shared Past — Story of the Day

I thought my daughter was hiding a scandal. So, I followed her. But when she slipped into a stranger’s house in the dead of night, then ran out like she’d seen a ghost—I realized I was chasing something far worse.

The morning air was crisp, carrying the soft scent of roses. The house was still asleep. It was too early for Greg’s grumbling, too soon for Veronica to start recording herself with a glass of green smoothie.

But my girls? They were always up.

“Well, Vivi, how does it feel?” Dolly sipped her coffee and gave me a sly look from under her thick lashes.

“Feel about what?” I took a sip, listening to the birds chirping in the distance.

“About the fact that your family still hasn’t recovered from last night’s dinner in the garden,” Margo cut in, elegantly stirring her coffee. “And, most importantly, that everyone suddenly seems so taken with Harold.”

I sighed and set my cup down.

“Oh, yes. At first, they looked at him like he was a ghost. Then they started talking to him like an old friend. And now? Scooter is completely enchanted.”

“Kids love surprises,” Dolly nodded. “For him, it’s like a detective novel—a mysterious man from the past appears with a shocking revelation.”

“Greg needs time too,” I pressed my lips together.

Margo set her cup down slowly, giving me a knowing look that missed nothing.

“And did you need time?”

I looked away. “He was always charming. At first.”

Dolly let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Oh, here we go! Vivi, darling, we all know your children believed Edward was their only father, but you never told us the whole story.”

I smirked slightly. “Oh, I’ve already told. You just didn’t listen.”

“No,” Margo adjusted the ring on her finger. “You always told only what you wanted to.”

Dolly dramatically clutched her chest.

“Well, tell us now! How did Harold disappear from your life, and how did Mr. Perfect Husband take his place?”

I rolled my eyes. “You already know the story.”

“We just want to refresh our memories,” Margo took another sip of coffee.

I took another sip of my own.

“Fine. Harold and I… We were young, in love, and foolish. He wanted a simple life—a house, a garden, a family without all the extravagance. And me? I wanted more. I wanted to live in style, travel, and be part of society. I didn’t see myself with a man who wore checkered shirts and grew vegetables.”

Dolly rolled her eyes. “Well, you certainly got what you wanted.”

“Yes. But you know what’s strange? Last night at dinner, I suddenly realized that Greg didn’t just inherit my stubborn streak. He got something from Harold too.”

“Like what?” Margo raised an eyebrow.

“That determination. Greg will resist, he’ll fight, but in the end, he always comes back to what truly matters. He always wants to control the situation. That’s from his father.”

“And what now?” Dolly propped her chin on her hands.

“And now… Harold is coming to breakfast.”

Dolly nearly choked on her coffee. “What?!”

“Scooter is thrilled to have a grandfather he never had before. And Greg… He still doesn’t know what to think, but he agreed the kids should spend time with him.”

“Aha,” Margo murmured. “Well, of course, that’s how it always starts. He charmed you too.”

I didn’t have time to answer because, suddenly, the sound of a car approaching caught our attention.

We all turned toward the driveway. A sleek black sedan pulled up in front of the house, and out stepped Belinda.

I narrowed my eyes. She leaned into the car window, saying a careful goodbye to someone inside. A few seconds later, the car drove away, and I watched as Belinda smoothed her hair and sneaked toward the house.

“Hm,” Margo hummed. “Looks like she didn’t spend the night at home.”

I smirked. “At least one mystery in this house, I will solve.”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

I watched as my daughter climbed the steps, acting as if nothing was out of place. “Oh, I have my ways.”

***

If there was one thing I hated more than unexpected guests, it was unsolved mysteries. And my daughter sneaking home at dawn in a stranger’s car? That was a mystery screaming for answers.

I didn’t confront her right away. No, no. I played it smart.

At breakfast, Belinda sat straight-backed, sipping her green tea as if she had just returned from a morning yoga class instead of God knows where.

***

So, when night fell, I did something I hadn’t done in years. I tailed my own daughter. It had been a while since I had engaged in a proper chase.

Back in my prime, I had pulled off more than a few covert operations: snooping through my late husband's ledgers, uncovering a neighbor’s “secret” gambling den and so on.

But following Belinda without getting caught? That required finesse.

She left the house just past eleven. No hesitation, no looking back. That was the first red flag. If you’re sneaking out, at least have the decency to hesitate.

I slid into my car, staying just far enough behind. She drove for nearly twenty minutes before pulling up in front of a modest suburban house. No sign of life inside.

Then, to my absolute horror, my daughter… Belinda, my responsible, schedule-driven, rule-enforcing daughter… climbed out of her car, walked up to the house… and slipped in through a side window.

What in the world…?

Before I could even process the absurdity of what I was witnessing, a porch light flickered on. A shadow moved past the curtains.

Belinda froze. Then she bolted. Then she ran like a woman who had been caught red-handed in something she should definitely not have been doing.

I acted on instinct. I pulled up right in front of her and threw open the passenger door.

“Get in.”

“Mom?!” she gasped, breathless, wild-eyed.

“Would you rather explain yourself to me or the police?” I nodded toward the end of the street, where a patrol car was making a slow turn.

She groaned, jumped in, and slammed the door.

And that’s how I found myself speeding down the road at one in the morning, with my daughter in full-blown panic mode beside me and the unmistakable flash of blue and red lights suddenly appearing in the rearview mirror.

***

I pulled into the deserted parking lot of a dimly lit roadside bar, killed the engine, and turned to my daughter.

"Start talking."

Belinda stared out the window, her fingers gripping her lap so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"Mom, I…" She exhaled sharply. "I don’t even know where to start."

"Try the part where I had to speed away from the cops in my own car at two in the morning because my daughter, who color-codes her grocery lists, was breaking into a house."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I wasn’t breaking in."

"Oh, excuse me. "You just happened to be… what? Checking their security system? Offering free interior design advice?"

"Mom, please. This isn’t funny."

I sighed, softening, just a little. "Then tell me what it is."

She sat in silence for a moment. Then, finally, she looked up at me, her eyes glistening.

"I had a baby when I was twenty-five."

Everything inside me went still. The words echoed in my ears like a gunshot.

"What?!"

"I had a baby. A little girl. And I gave her up. I was afraid of you. I had to start my career."

I felt the world tilt beneath me.

"But… how?" My voice was hoarse, unfamiliar. "I... I would’ve known."

"You were traveling," she said, her voice raw. "Remember that year you went on that long trip? You left me with the nanny. And she... she was the one who helped me."

I sucked in a sharp breath.

Nina. The nanny I had hired to keep things "stable" while I had taken my one great adventure, traveling across Europe, promising I’d come back with new stories and experiences.

I had come back to the same daughter I had left. Or so I had thought.

"She took the baby," Belinda whispered. "Raised her as her own. I didn’t even see her again for years."

I pressed my fingers against my temple. "And now?"

"Now I found her. I spent weeks visiting, getting to know her. But when I told Nina I wanted her back, she refused."

"I went to take her... but they were gone. Moved. And someone called the cops on me."

"She’s ten, Mom," Belinda whispered. "The same age as Scooter."

I shut my eyes for a moment, my heart squeezing painfully. Belinda had a child, my granddaughter, and she had been out there—living a life I never even knew existed. She wiped her eyes.

"I found out I can’t have children, Mom. Not anymore. And she’s mine. She was always mine."

"You should have told me."

She let out a hollow laugh. "Told you? The woman who runs this family like a courtroom? Who thinks emotions are for people who don’t know how to strategize? Mom, I was scared to tell you if I caught a cold, let alone that I had a baby at eighteen."

That stung. But the worst part? She wasn’t wrong.

I sat there, staring at my daughter—thе woman who had lived with a burden for ten years.

"I have to fix this," I murmured.

"What?!"

I straightened my back, my mind already moving like clockwork. "You said Nina took her, right?"

She nodded. And with that, I pressed the button, turning my car roaring to life.

"Then I know exactly where to start."

"Mom… what are you planning?"

"Fixing this mess. And for that, I have to go somewhere I never thought I’d return to."

If my past was the only way to fix my daughter's future—then it was time to stop running from it.

I had to sacrifice one more of my secrets to save my family.

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If you enjoyed the third part of the story, read the previous one: The morning started with a scream—Scooter had disappeared. There wasn't a trace of him. By noon, panic spread. But my worst fear wasn’t that he was missing. It was who he had found. Read the full story here.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.