The dimly lit living room that was once filled with a child’s laughter reminded Eleanor over and over again of her profound loss and her inability to move forward. She and her husband, Joseph, lost their daughter Ava to cancer and nothing has been the same ever since. The grief and the pain that settled into Eleanor’s hard was extremely hard to even try to overcome. Eventually, the loss affected her realtionship with Joseph and the two split.
All Eleanor could wish for was to be a mother again.
Five years after Ava’s passing, she decided to adopt a child. Spending hours and hours on adoption sites, Eleanor’s attention was caught by the image of a young girl named Charlotte. This girl’s resemblance to Ava was incredible. They not only had the same hair color, but it seemed to Eleanor that they also shared facial features.
Without hesitating even a bit, Eleanor called Grace Adoption Services.
“Hello, this is Grace Adoption Services. I’m Samantha. How can I assist you today?” a warm voice came on the other end.
“My name is Eleanor. I’m hoping to adopt, and a little girl on your website has caught my attention,” she said, scratching her head.
“We’ll set up an appointment for you to come in and meet us. It’s always best if we do this in person.”
Eleanor was quick to agree. “I’m ready to take that step,” she said. “I want to make a difference in a child’s life.”
On the day of the meeting, Eleanor waited nervously at Samantha’s office.
“It’s wonderful to meet you in person,” Samantha greeted her. “I’ve read your application and can already tell you’d be an amazing parent.”
Eleanor was asked of the reasons she wanted to adopt and plenty of other questions about her background. She was also asked about her partner, with Samantha telling her that two-parent household had greater chances of adopting a child.
Eleanor explained that her relationship with her ex crumbled after the loss of their daughter, but the two were still in contact and trying to mend things between them.
Eleanor then left the agency with high hopes of being able to adopt Charlotte. She was so certain that her wish of becoming a mother again would come true that she even set a child’s room and bought everything Charlotte would need if she becomes her daughter.
What followed was a meeting at the park between Eleanor and Charlotte. Once she laid eyes on her in person, Eleanor was once again struck by the child’s resemblance with late Ava. She bought some coloring books and markers which Charlotte accepted with a quiet “Thank you” as a response.
The day was filled with fun and laughter, and Charlotte even told Eleanor that she would love her to be her mom because she didn’t want to be in the foster care any longer.
In the following weeks, Eleanor and Charlotte developed a stronger bond as Charlotte visited Eleanor’s home, explored her new bedroom, and shared meals with her.
Finally, Eleanor called Joseph. “Ellie,” he greeted warmly. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“I have some big news to share. Can we meet tomorrow?” she told him.
The following day, Eleanor explained to Joseph that she wanted to adopt. “I can see this means a lot to you. It’s good to see you so alive again,” he responded. “I can’t let grief consume me,” she said. “We can’t let grief consume us.”
In the days to come, Joseph joined Eleanor and Charlotte to dinners and visited them in the house.
Charlotte was happy in what she hoped would be her forever home. “I’ve never had a mom like you. I don’t want to go back to foster care,” she told Eleanor. “I will be, sweetheart. I’ll be your mom forever.”
Finally, the adoption day arrived and Eleanor invited her closest family and friends to witness the beautiful moment. Joseph was also there.
At the hearing, Eleanor and Charlotte stood hand in hand before the judge as he finalized the adoption. Eleanor’s eyes filled with joyful tears as she looked at Charlotte, realizing they were beginning a new chapter together.
In her new environment, Charlotte flourished, serving as a reminder of the love Eleanor and Joseph once lost and the abundant love they still had to offer.
Being part of their lives, Charlotte brought Eleanor and Joseph closer together, and they rekindled their relationship.
One day, out of the blue, Eleanor received a call from Samantha. Her voice sounded strange and Eleanor heart skipped a beat because she could sense something was wrong.
“Eleanor, Charlotte’s biological mother has contacted me,” the adoption agency owner revealed. “She claimed that Joseph could be Charlotte’s biological father.”
“What? Charlotte could be Ava’s half-sister?” Eleanor whispered.
“We need to confront Joseph about this,” Samantha advised. “If he denies it, a paternity test may be necessary.”
“Why does it matter if she gave the kid up?”
“She said that the affair was quick, but if the biological dad suddenly wants to be in the picture, she may want to challenge the adoption,” Samantha explained. “I just want to be sure nothing can mess with Charlotte’s happiness.”
Eleanor hung up the phone and approached Joseph who was gardening outside. She told him what Samantha told her and asked him if he had had an affair with someone. Joseph confessed that he had a one-night thing with a woman whom he met in a support group for grieving parents he had joined after Ava’s death and their separation.
“It was a terrible mistake,” he confessed.
“You mean to say that you might be Charlotte’s father then if this woman gave her up for adoption?” Eleanor asked in horror.
“I left the group soon after she told me she was pregnant. But she might have given the child up for adoption,” Joseph nodded.
Eleanor, overwhelmed, asked about a paternity test which Joseph agreed without hesitation, “I will. I’ll own up to this all the way.”
While they waited for the results, Eleanor spoke to Samantha constantly. “In most jurisdictions, once an adoption is complete, it is generally irreversible,” her now-friend explained softly. When the results finally came Eleanor had a hard time breathing as they were opening the envelope that could change their lives yet again. She read it slowly, “Joseph is…not Charlotte’s father! Thank God!”
Upon hearing this news, Eleanor saw Charlotte’s resemblance to Ava as a miraculous coincidence and a second chance for her family. Through Charlotte, Ava could forever remain a part of them.
I Paid a Fortune Teller’s Bus Fare – The Note She Slipped Me Uncovered a Terrible Secret
Single dad Daniel’s quiet morning with his sick little son took an unexpected turn when he helped an elderly woman on the bus. The lady was a fortune teller and slipped a cryptic note into his hand. Daniel accepted it, unaware that her parting words would soon haunt him in ways he never imagined.
It was one of those gray mornings in California, the kind that makes you feel like the universe hit snooze and forgot to wake up. My one-year-old son, Jamie, was strapped in his stroller, his tiny breaths fogging the clear plastic cover. He’d been burning up with a fever all night, and every little whimper had cut through me like glass.
A baby boy in a stroller | Source: Midjourney
I shoved a pacifier into his hand and double-checked the diaper bag slung over my shoulder. Formula? Check. Spare clothes? Check. An exhausted father running on caffeine and prayer? Also, check.
Parenting solo wasn’t the life I’d envisioned. My wife Paulina had been my everything, and when she passed during childbirth, it felt like the air had been sucked out of my world. But Jamie was my anchor now, and every step I took was for him.
“Almost there, buddy,” I murmured, adjusting his blanket. “We’ll get you feeling better soon, I promise.”
I touched his forehead gently, remembering the sleepless night before. “Your mama would know exactly what to do right now,” I whispered, my voice catching.
A man pushing a baby stroller | Source: Pexels
The bus screeched to a halt, and I hauled the stroller up with one hand, gripping the railing for balance.
“Let’s go, man! People got places to be!” the driver snapped.
“My son’s sick,” I shot back, struggling with the stroller. “Just give me a second.”
“Whatever, just hurry it up.”
I bit back a stronger reply, settling Jamie into the corner. The bus wasn’t crowded… just a few commuters with headphones or half-open newspapers.
At the next stop, she got on.
Likely in her 70s, the lady looked out of place. Layers of flowing skirts draped around her fragile body, a scarf tied tightly over her head, and silver bangles jingled on her wrists. Her dark, kohl-lined eyes darted around nervously as she rummaged through an old leather purse.
An older lady in a colorful costume | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t have enough for the fare,” she told the driver, her voice low and tinged with an accent I couldn’t place.
He scowled. “LADY, I’M NOT RUNNING A CHARITY. IF YOU DON’T HAVE THE MONEY, YOU CAN WALK. Pay or get off.”
She hesitated, looking visibly flustered. “Please. My name is Miss Moonshadow. I’ll read your fortune for free. Just let me ride.” Her hands trembled as she held them out. “Please, I… I need to get somewhere urgently.”
The driver rolled his eyes. “I don’t want any of that mumbo jumbo. Pay or walk.”
Her face flushed, and she looked over her shoulder, her gaze catching mine for just a second before darting away. There was fear there, raw and real. And something else I couldn’t quite place.
“Hey! If you can’t pay, get off the bus already!” the driver barked, his voice sharp enough to make her flinch.
An anxious older lady in the bus | Source: Midjourney
That was enough. And I stood up. “I’ve got it,” I said, digging into my pocket. “Let her take the ride.”
The driver muttered something under his breath as I handed over a couple of bills.
The woman turned to me, her eyes meeting mine with a weight I couldn’t quite place. “Thank you,” she said softly. “You didn’t have to. You have enough burden already, I can see it in your eyes.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, brushing it off. “We all need help sometimes.”
Miss Moonshadow took a seat near the back, but I could feel her gaze following me. Jamie stirred in his stroller, and I leaned down to soothe him, my hand brushing his fever-warmed cheek.
“Shhh, it’s okay, little man,” I whispered. “Daddy’s got you.”
A sad man sitting in a bus | Source: Midjourney
When my stop came, I maneuvered Jamie’s stroller toward the door. As I passed her, Miss Moonshadow reached out, her bangle-covered hand gripping my arm with startling firmness.
“Wait, here,” she said, pressing a small folded note into my palm.
“What’s this?” I asked, confused.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “YOU’LL NEED IT. Trust me. Sometimes, the truth hurts before it heals.”
The driver barked for me to hurry up, and I nodded stiffly, stepping off the bus. The paper felt strangely heavy in my pocket, but I ignored it, although I was puzzled.
A man holding a small piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
The pediatrician’s waiting room was a blend of crying babies and exhausted parents when I arrived. I kept my eyes on Jamie, who had fallen asleep again in his stroller, his feverish little face looked smaller than usual.
“Mr. Daniel?” the nurse called.
“That’s us,” I said, standing. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you checked out.”
The nurse stepped out and announced that Jamie was next, adding that the doctor would see him in five minutes. I sank into a chair in the waiting room, my exhaustion catching up to me. Almost without thinking, my hand drifted to the note in my pocket. I pulled it out, smoothing the creases before unfolding it.
The words hit me like a slap:
“HE’S NOT YOUR SON.”
A shocked man in a hospital | Source: Midjourney
I blinked, reading it again. Then again. My pulse roared in my ears, and I stuffed the note back into my pocket like it might burn me.
“Mr. Daniel?” the nurse called again. “The doctor’s ready.”
Jamie stirred, his little fists opening and closing. I reached out, brushing his cheek with my thumb. He was so real and so undeniably mine. The note was a lie. It had to be.
“He’s got your eyes,” the nurse kindly said as she led us to the exam room.
I forced a smile, but the words felt like daggers. Still, the note’s message clung to me like smoke, filling every corner of my mind with doubt.
A man lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
The cryptic message haunted me for days. I kept telling myself it was nonsense and didn’t mean anything. But every time Jamie giggled or looked up at me with Paulina’s eyes, the doubt crept back in.
Then, one night, I caved. I ordered a DNA test online, the guilt swirling in my gut even as I clicked “confirm purchase.”
“What am I doing?” I whispered to myself, staring at the confirmation email. “This is crazy. This is absolutely —”
Jamie’s cry interrupted my thoughts. I found him standing in his crib, his arms raised.
“Da-da,” he whimpered, reaching for me.
A man using a laptop | Source: Midjourney
I scooped him up, holding him close. “I’m here, buddy. I’m here.”
More than anything, I wished the DNA results would prove what I already felt in my heart — that Jamie was mine, that he belonged to me as much as I belonged to him.
I took the test, and the results came a week later. The envelope sat on the kitchen counter, unopened. Jamie babbled from his high chair, smearing pureed carrots across his tray.
“Alright,” I muttered to myself, ripping the envelope open.
The first thing I saw was the word “inconclusive.” Then, I found the part that mattered.
Jamie WASN’T mine.
I sank to the floor, the paper crumpling in my fist. “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no…”
“Da-da!” Jamie called out cheerfully, oblivious to my world crumbling.
A man shaken to his core | Source: Midjourney
I drove to Paulina’s mom’s house that evening, gripping the DNA results like they might dissolve if I let go. She answered the door with a warm smile, but it vanished when she saw my face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping aside to let me in.
I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I dropped the paper onto the coffee table. “Did you know?”
Her eyes flicked to the document, then back to me. “Daniel, I —”
“DID YOU KNOW, JOYCE?” I snapped.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she sank into the couch. “She told me,” she whispered.
The words felt like a punch to the stomach. I stumbled backward, gripping the wall for support.
A disheartened older woman | Source: Midjourney
“My daughter… she made a huge mistake,” she continued. “One night. It was a stupid night at a work party. She wasn’t sure, Daniel. She wasn’t sure if the baby was yours. She was so scared. She begged me not to tell you.”
“So you BOTH lied to me?” I exploded. “Every day, every moment… it was all a LIE?”
“Daniel, please —”
“I held her hand when she died!” My voice broke. “I watched her slip away, promising I’d take care of our baby. OUR baby! And you knew? You knew all along?”
“She wanted to tell you,” Joyce sobbed. “The night before… before everything happened. She said she couldn’t bear it anymore. But then —”
“Then she died,” I finished, my voice hollow. “And you still said nothing.”
An emotional man with his eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
“She loved you,” Joyce added, tears streaming down her face. “She loved you so much, Daniel. She was scared, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t love you.”
“Love?” I laughed bitterly. “Love isn’t lies. Love isn’t —” I choked on the words. “Every time you looked at Jamie, every time you held him… you knew.”
“He’s still your son,” she whispered. “And you’re the only father he’s ever known.”
“I can’t…” I shook my head. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
I left without saying another word, her sobs following me out the door.
A man walking away | Source: Midjourney
That night, I sat by Jamie’s crib, watching him sleep. His chest rose and fell in rhythm, and his tiny hand curled around his favorite blanket. The moon cast shadows through the window, and I remembered all the nights I’d spent here, singing lullabies, wiping tears, changing diapers, and fighting fevers.
“Who am I to you?” I whispered. “Am I just some stranger who…”
“Da-da!” Jamie stirred in his sleep, his little face scrunching up before relaxing again. I reached down, touching his hand, and his fingers automatically wrapped around mine.
I thought about Paulina — her laugh, smile, and how she used to hum when she cooked. The betrayal cut deep, but so did the memory of her last moments and the way she’d looked at me with such trust and love.
A heartbroken man lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
“Your mama made mistakes,” I whispered to Jamie. “Big ones. And right now, I don’t know how to forgive her.”
Jamie sighed in his sleep, still holding my finger.
“But you,” I continued, tears falling freely now, “you’re innocent in all this. You didn’t ask for any of it. And this past year…” My voice caught. “Every diaper I’ve changed, every fever I’ve fought, every smile, every tear, and every moment… they’re real. They’re OURS.”
The anger and betrayal still simmered, but they couldn’t touch the love I felt when I looked at him. This little boy had become my whole world and given me purpose when I thought I had none left.
A baby fast asleep | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, buddy,” I whispered, brushing a curl from his forehead. “You’re stuck with me, okay? No matter what. Because being a father… it’s not about blood. It’s about every sleepless night, every worried moment, and every celebration. It’s about choice. And I choose you. I’ll always choose you.”
Jamie stirred, his lips curving into a tiny smile.
This little miracle wasn’t my son by blood, but that didn’t matter. He was mine in every way that counted and in all the ways that truly mattered. And that was enough, more than enough.
As I watched my son sleep, I realized that sometimes the greatest truths come from the deepest lies, and the strongest bonds are the ones we choose to forge, not the ones we’re born with.
“Sweet dreams, my baby boy,” I whispered, and for the first time since reading that note, the word ‘son’ felt more true than ever before.
A man smiling warmly | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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