“You’ve brought nothing but sorrow to this family!” the mother screamed at her teenage daughter.
“Mum, you’re back! I’ve missed you so much! Will we be together now?” the girl cried, her voice trembling with hope as she rushed toward her mother.
“No! You’re staying with Gran!” Anna snapped, pushing her away as if she were a stranger.
It was the first time in two years that Anna had visited her daughter in the quiet town of Willowbrook. Her voice was icy, her eyes full of hatred. She had left the girl in her mother-in-law’s care, and this reunion shattered the child’s heart—so eager for her mother’s love.
“Why?” the girl whispered, fighting back tears.
“Because your birth ruined this family! Your father is dead because of you!” Anna shouted, the words cutting like a knife into her daughter’s soul.
Anna and Paul had been inseparable since their school days. Their love seemed unbreakable—they dreamed of the future, made plans, and couldn’t bear a day apart. They married right after university, and Paul took a well-paid job on an offshore rig. Soon, they bought a house in Willowbrook. When Anna learned she was expecting, Paul was overjoyed. He doted on her, chose the finest maternity hospital, and prepared the nursery with care. Their lives were full of promise.
But fate was cruel. Days after the birth, Anna was due to leave the hospital. Paul, beaming with pride, decorated the nursery, bought flowers, and set off to bring his wife and baby home. He never made it. A terrible crash took his life. Rescuers and doctors could do nothing. Anna was left alone with a newborn daughter.
Her best friend arrived at the hospital, trying to soften the blow. She spun silly tales to distract her, but the truth caught up with Anna at home. Her mother-in-law, Margaret, sobbing, broke the news. Anna, overcome with grief, stormed into the nursery Paul had lovingly prepared. She tore down curtains, threw toys, screamed in agony. Her world had ended.
After the funeral, Anna couldn’t bear to look at her daughter. Margaret took over the baby’s care. Anna forced herself to tend to the child, but her heart held no love—only emptiness and rage. She blamed her daughter for Paul’s death, as if her birth had cursed them.
One day, when Margaret visited, Anna broke.
“It’s her fault!” she shrieked, choking on tears. “She destroyed our lives! I hate her!”
“Anna, stop this!” Margaret begged. “We must live for the child. She’s innocent!”
The words fell on deaf ears. Anna shut herself away in grief, walling off her daughter with hatred.
Two years later, Anna found work. Margaret helped, but soon Anna got a promotion and began travelling. She asked her mother-in-law to take the girl. Margaret, who adored the child, agreed. At first, Anna visited, taking her for weekends, but the visits grew scarce. Then, she vanished.
Anna sent money to Margaret’s account but never called. The girl wept, begging for her mother, but Margaret made excuses—”Mum’s away for work, she’ll be back soon.” She even went to Anna’s home, but Anna slammed the door in her face, refusing to speak.
Years passed. Anna appeared at Margaret’s house on her daughter’s birthday. She walked in, handed over a gift, and froze as the girl—Emily—ran to her, hopeful.
“Mum, you’re here! Will I live with you now?” Emily’s eyes shone.
“Nothing’s changed,” Anna said coldly, stepping back. “You’re staying here.”
“Why?” Emily’s voice wavered, tears welling up.
“Because you brought disaster! Your father died because of you!” Anna’s words echoed through the room.
Margaret couldn’t take it.
“Anna, stop! How can you say such things to a child?”
Anna stared at her with icy calm.
“I’ve remarried,” she said. “And I’m expecting. I came to sign away my rights to Emily.”
“You’d abandon your own daughter?” Margaret gasped. “Have you no shame?”
“I can’t love her,” Anna murmured. “Forgive me.”
She turned and left. Soon, a notarized document arrived. Emily stayed with Margaret, who became her guardian. When the girl asked about her mother, Margaret stayed silent—unable to tell the truth. Years later, Emily learned her mother blamed her for her father’s death. She wept for days but never asked again. The love she’d held for her mother shattered forever.
Some wounds never heal—but hatred only deepens them, leaving scars for lifetimes.
