When I married Ben, I knew I was walking into a life touched by grief. He had lost the love of his life, and his son, Lucas, had lost his mother. I promised myself I wouldn’t try to erase the past—I only wanted to help shape a better future.
Things went well at first. Lucas called me “Mom” early on, and I felt proud to be part of his world. Then came the day he told me something that made my skin crawl.
“She still lives here,” he said softly. “My real mom doesn’t sleep. She watches me.”
At first, I dismissed it as a child’s dream. But then I noticed the odd patterns—things always returned to where they were, Irene’s photo kept reappearing, and Lucas seemed certain someone else was in the house.
Driven by unease, I went to the attic one night. Behind a stack of boxes, I found a door I hadn’t seen before. Inside was Emily, Ben’s sister—living in secret, avoiding the world.
She admitted she spoke to Lucas, telling him comforting tales about his mother, letting him believe she was near. She thought she was helping him grieve.
When I confronted Ben, he looked devastated. He had kept her hidden, afraid I’d leave if I knew the truth.
Together, we told Lucas everything. It was heartbreaking to see him struggle with reality, but eventually, he understood. Emily was taken to get help, and our family began to heal—not perfectly, but together.
