After 10 years, mother returns to the abandoned home where she had left her one-year-old kid and discovers something that makes her cry

Over ten years ago, something terrible happened in Yaroslavl, a Russian City.

One day quite some time ago, a neighbor heard that a baby was crying in a house not far away, but at the time he didn’t think about it a whole lot and went back to his daily life.

In the days that proceeded, he noticed that the baby continued to cry inconsolably, even though no one had seen any signs of life from the house, there were never lights on or any sign of activity at all.

The neighbors really started to worry and called the police to investigate.

When the police got into the house it was derelict and empty, the people who had lived there before had taken all their things, cleared the house, and disappeared.

The only thing that was left in the house was their own little baby, how awful!

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The little girl was one year old and they found her on a dirty cold floor all on her own for many days!!

The authorities investigated further and discovered that the baby was called Liza Verbitskaya, although her parents were nowhere to be seen, in fact, no one could find them or knew where they were.

Little Liza was taken to a doctor and she recovered in the hospital for a good number of days to make sure she really was nursed back to health after her ordeal.

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While she was in the hospital there was a woman called Inna Nika, she was there looking after her sick son and was there day and night.

One particular day she happened to hear a scream from the hospital room next door and had a look inside the room, out of curiosity and concern, to see what was going on. Little Liza was there in the room and Inna felt a maternal pull toward the little girl.

From that day forth, Inna visited Liza every day and came with clothes, food and toys for her.

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Inna was about to visit Liza one day, like every other day, but Liza was not there, she had gone. She found out that the little girl was thought to be strong enough to be released from care at the hospital to an orphanage.

Inna felt so empty and really yearned to be reunited with the little girl again, so much so that she made the decision to go and find her!

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When she did find her she felt that there was no doubt in her mind, she wanted to adopt the little girl. Inna began the adoption process as soon as she could and after a lot of paperwork Liza was given permission to live with Inna and her family, where she loved her like one of her own.

When Inna adopted Liza, with the paperwork and delays, she was nearly two. She was so afraid of loud noises she couldn’t chew food! She had been very traumatized…

Inna was more determined than ever to give the little girl the ware and love that she had always needed and her dark times were clearly in the past.

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Liza found it difficult to learn to walk, but as she got older Inna joined her with a dance school, she hoped that she would become more comfortable in herself and it would bring her out of her shell.

Exactly why, nobody will be 100% sure, but with all the love and the care she received from her adopted mom, it wasn’t long before Liza bloomed like another girl of her age.

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Liza was really dark skinned unlike her siblings and stuck out like a sore thumb, it really was not easy as she began to grow up. Inna always said to her daughter that she should never listen to others as they are easily driven by jealousy.

The now teenage Liza has won several beauty contests, many talents show and worked her first job as a fashion model. Such an amazing contrast to how her life started and how she has succeeded!

I Found a Girl in the Middle of an Empty Road at Night – When I Got Closer, I Went Pale

Driving alone on a foggy night, a mother spots a young girl in a tattered dress, silent and familiar. As she pulls closer, she notices that the girl’s haunted eyes hold secrets that might be better left hidden.

It was late, and the night felt thicker than usual. The fog wrapped around the car like a heavy blanket, swallowing up everything beyond the headlights. I squinted ahead, gripping the wheel tighter than usual.

Driving through the fog | Source: Pexels

Driving through the fog | Source: Pexels

“Just get home,” I muttered, rubbing my tired eyes. It had been such a long day at work, and all I wanted was my bed.

I hated this road. I’d always hated it. I usually took the main highway, but tonight, I had thought: Just a quick shortcut. It’ll save me time.

A woman driving through the fog | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving through the fog | Source: Midjourney

Then, something caught my eye. A shadow, right in the middle of the road. I slammed on the brakes, heart pounding, and stared. The figure was barely visible, just an outline in the mist.

“Please just be a tree or a mailbox or something,” I whispered, even though I knew it wasn’t. As I rolled forward slowly, the shadow appeared to be a girl. She was thin, and her white dress seemed to cling to her in tatters.

A girl on a figgy road | Source: Midjourney

A girl on a figgy road | Source: Midjourney

I felt an instinctual chill crawl up my spine. Everything in me screamed to turn around, to get out of there. But something stronger kept me rooted in place.

I rolled down the window a crack, my voice shaky. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, I opened the door and stepped out, flashlight in hand. I aimed it at her face, and the beam caught her features for the first time. I gasped, stumbling back. I knew that face. The pale skin, the wide eyes, the mouth parted slightly in confusion.

A woman stepping out from her car | Source: Midjourney

A woman stepping out from her car | Source: Midjourney

“Emily?” My voice was barely a whisper, but she seemed to hear me. She looked up, her eyes locking onto mine, empty and wide.

“Mommy?” Her voice was soft, barely there.

Shock and relief crashed over me. It was her. My Emily, my daughter who’d been gone for five years. She’d vanished without a trace, no sign of where she’d gone or who might have taken her. The police and search parties had all come up with nothing.

A search party going through the woods | Source: Pexels

A search party going through the woods | Source: Pexels

“Emily, oh my God… it’s really you,” I stammered, taking a step closer. “Where have you been? Are you hurt?”

She blinked, her face blank. “I… don’t know,” she murmured. Her voice sounded small. It was like it hadn’t been used in years.

I swallowed, my mind racing. Trauma, maybe. I had been warned that if we ever found her, she might not remember because kids could block out things that were too painful.

A shy girl looking down | Source: Midjourney

A shy girl looking down | Source: Midjourney

I knelt in front of her, heart racing. “It’s okay, honey. It’s me. It’s Mom. We’re gonna go home, okay?” My hand trembled as I reached out.

I wrapped my coat around her shoulders, feeling her icy skin through the fabric. “Let’s get you out of here,” I said, guiding her to the car. She sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out the window, her expression distant.

A woman hugging her daughter | Source: Midjourney

A woman hugging her daughter | Source: Midjourney

The drive home was quiet, her gaze never leaving the foggy darkness outside. I glanced over, trying to read her face, but there was nothing, just a blank stare, as though she was somewhere else entirely.

“Emily,” I tried gently, “do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

She didn’t look at me. “A room. It was… dark. And… there was someone. I think. I think he brought food, but… I don’t remember his face.”

A sad girl in the backseat of the car | Source: Midjourney

A sad girl in the backseat of the car | Source: Midjourney

My throat tightened. “It’s okay, honey. You’re safe now. We’re going home.”

She didn’t respond; she stared into the fog as we left the dark road behind.

As we pulled into the driveway, I felt a pang of relief. The familiar porch light, the sight of home, everything safe. But as I opened the door and led her inside, a new unease settled over me.

A house at night | Source: Pexels

A house at night | Source: Pexels

Emily sat stiffly on the couch, looking around like she didn’t recognize anything. Her movements were slow, almost robotic.

“Do you… remember this place?” I asked.

She shrugged, her eyes blank. “I think so.”

Her voice was so flat, so empty. I sat beside her, reaching out, but stopped, unsure if she wanted comfort or space.

A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

“Mom,” she whispered, her voice barely there, “I’m… cold.”

I wrapped a blanket around her and sat there watching her, unsure of what to do or say.

The days that followed were a blur of quiet tension. Emily barely spoke, answering my questions in monosyllables, her gaze always elsewhere. I only heard her voice when she sang an old lullaby that I used to sing to her as a baby. I knew she couldn’t have remembered that, but I didn’t want to pry either.

A girl covering her face with her hands | Source: Pexels

A girl covering her face with her hands | Source: Pexels

One evening, I found her sitting on the floor, surrounded by old photo albums I’d stored in a closet. She had one open on her lap, her fingers tracing a picture of Mark, her father. He’d passed away when she was just a baby, so young she couldn’t possibly remember him.

“Mom?” she whispered, her brow furrowed. “I know him.”

I felt a strange chill. “Honey, that’s your dad. Remember? I told you about him.”

A sad girl hugging herself | Source: Pexels

A sad girl hugging herself | Source: Pexels

“No,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I know him. From… the place.” Her eyes filled with confusion, and she stared at the picture as if trying to make sense of a dream.

My throat went dry. “What place, Emily?”

Her hands trembled, and she shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t remember… but he was there.”

A concerned woman talking to her scared child | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman talking to her scared child | Source: Midjourney

My mind raced. Emily couldn’t have known Mark. She was just a baby when he died. But someone who looked like him… my thoughts shifted sharply. Mark’s brother, Jake.

He looked so much like Mark that they could’ve been twins. He’d even stayed with us a few times after Mark’s death. He’d been there when I sang Emily her lullabies. A memory rushed back of Jake standing in the doorway, listening to me sing her to sleep.

Bothers posing for a photo | Source: Midjourney

Bothers posing for a photo | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t ignore the thought any longer. I had to know the truth.

The next morning, I drove out to the old family cabin, an isolated place nestled deep in the woods on the edge of town. I hadn’t been there since Mark died.

After his passing, the cabin became a hollow shell of memories I couldn’t bear to face. And no one ever had a reason to visit it. The police hadn’t even searched there when Emily disappeared; they’d assumed it was abandoned, unimportant.

A shack in the woods | Source: Pexels

A shack in the woods | Source: Pexels

I parked the car and stepped out, the silence of the forest pressing in around me. The cabin looked just as I remembered, except more rundown. But something was off.

As I moved closer, I saw one of the windows was covered with a piece of heavy cloth. I felt a surge of unease. Why would someone cover the window?

A window covered with a peace of cloth | Source: Pexels

A window covered with a peace of cloth | Source: Pexels

The door creaked as I pushed it open, and stale air hit me in a wave. Dust lay thick over everything except for a narrow trail leading toward a door in the back. My pulse quickened. I followed the trail, my shoes stirring up the dust in the silent cabin.

When I opened the back door, my stomach clenched. It was a small, dim room. And unlike the rest of the cabin, this room was eerily clean. On the floor lay a few scattered toys, faded but well-loved, as though they’d been played with often. A shiver ran through me.

A dim room with a small window | Source: Pexels

A dim room with a small window | Source: Pexels

This was where she’d been.

I backed out of the room, heart pounding, and reached for my phone. Within minutes, the police were on their way.

Hours later, I sat with Emily in the living room as the officers worked at the cabin. She was quiet, her fingers clutching the edge of her blanket. When I took her hand, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with a sadness that broke my heart.

The police searching a cabin in the woods | Source: Midjourney

The police searching a cabin in the woods | Source: Midjourney

“Mommy… I remember now,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “I remember the man.”

I swallowed hard. “Who was it, sweetheart?”

Her voice shook. “It was Uncle Jake. He… he looked like Daddy, but different. He… he would bring me food, but he never spoke. He just sat there, outside the door. He… he used to hum that song.”

A sad girl | Source: Pexels

A sad girl | Source: Pexels

The police confirmed it that evening. They had enough evidence in the cabin to make an arrest. When they found Jake, he confessed, claiming he had taken Emily to “protect” her, that he’d wanted to be the one she depended on.

It was twisted and sick, and knowing he’d been that close to us all those years made my skin crawl.

A sad man covering his face with his hands | Source: Pexels

A sad man covering his face with his hands | Source: Pexels

When they told Emily, she broke down, sobbing, the weight of years of silence finally releasing. I held her close, rocking her as she cried, whispering over and over, “You’re safe now. No one will ever take you away again.”

The days that followed were quiet, but a warmth was beginning to bloom again between us. Emily started to talk more, little by little, and she would hum that old lullaby at night, almost as if testing if it was safe to hear it again.

A woman drawing with her daughter | Source: Pexels

A woman drawing with her daughter | Source: Pexels

One evening, as we sat by the window, she leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder. I began to hum the lullaby softly, how I used to when she was little. She looked up at me, and for the first time, I saw a spark of peace in her eyes.

“I love you, Mommy,” she whispered.

I held her close, tears slipping down my cheeks. “I love you too, sweetheart. Forever.”

A girl kissing her mother | Source: Freepik

A girl kissing her mother | Source: Freepik

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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