I never planned to remarry after Sarah died. But when Amelia came into our lives, she brought light back to Sophie’s eyes. My little girl, who’d been so quiet since losing her mother, started singing again. Our wedding day felt like a new beginning – until I returned from my first business trip as a married man.
“Daddy,” Sophie whispered the moment we were alone, “New Mom isn’t who you think she is.” She described Amelia’s strange behavior – the locked attic door, the sudden strictness, the way she’d snap if Sophie spilled anything. My blood ran cold imagining what might be happening in my absence.
That night, I followed Amelia to the attic, prepared for the worst. Instead, I found a labor of love – a secret playroom Amelia had been creating. “I wanted it to be perfect,” she confessed, showing me the hand-painted bookshelves and custom doll furniture. “But I got so obsessed with doing everything right that I forgot how to just love her.”
Watching Amelia apologize to Sophie the next day healed something in all of us. Now when I hear giggles coming from the attic, I know our family, with all its imperfections, is exactly where it’s meant to be.
