Hazel discovers a hidden folder on her father’s computer, filled with photos that turn her world upside down. The images reveal a shocking truth about her mother’s death, putting everything she knew about her family in question. As she prepares to confront her father, Hazel must ask herself: is she ready for the answers?
“Honey, did you remember to water the plants?” I asked Ethan as I walked into our cozy living room.
Ethan looked up from his book and smiled. “Yes, love, I did. You know I wouldn’t forget your precious plants.”
I chuckled, feeling the contentment of our shared life.
It had been five years since I moved out of Dad’s house. I was only twenty then, full of dreams and hopes for the future. Mom passed away when I was just one, so I didn’t get to spend much time with her. The only memories of her were the photos and stories Dad and I shared.
I missed her deeply on my wedding day. Dad did his best, but there were moments only a mother’s touch could mend.
Meeting and marrying Ethan brought a new chapter of joy into my life. Our home, though modest, was filled with love and laughter.
“Sometimes, I can’t believe how happy we are,” I said, sinking into the couch next to him. “I miss Dad because he must feel so lonely at times, but I love our life here.”
Ethan wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. “You can always visit him more often, Hazel. He’s not that far away.”
I nodded. “I know. But I really miss him sometimes. I wonder what he’s doing right now,” I said. “Probably tinkering with something in the garage?”
Ethan laughed. “Most likely. He loves his projects.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, savoring the peace of our home. Our marriage wasn’t perfect, and we had our ups and downs, but we faced them together.
The next day, as I was enjoying a quiet morning, my phone rang.
It was Dad.
“Hey, Dad,” I said as I answered.
“Hazel, could you come over and help with some chores? I’m swamped at work, and the house needs some tidying up,” he asked.
“Of course, Dad. I’ll be there soon,” I replied.
I was so happy he called me and asked me to come over. Honestly, I was just looking for a reason to visit him, and now I had it.
Later that evening, I arrived at Dad’s house, a place filled with memories of my childhood. The familiar creak of the front door greeted me as I stepped inside.
“Time to get to work,” I said to myself, rolling up my sleeves. I always felt a sense of duty to help Dad, especially since he had done so much for me.
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