When I took a nanny job at the Harrison estate, I thought it was my chance to start over. But the forbidden third floor and whispers about my mother’s past made me question everything I thought I knew.
When my mother passed away, my world fell apart. She wasn’t just my mom; she was my anchor. Without her, I was adrift in a storm of grief and bills that piled up faster than I could handle.
I spent countless nights scrolling through job postings. “Experience required.” “Degree preferred.” Each rejection chipped away at my hope.
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“Come on, Sarah,” I whispered to myself.
Then, one day, a thick envelope arrived.
The Harrisons?
I’d never heard of them, but the letter inside offered a job as a nanny for their eight-year-old son, Lucas. It felt like a miracle.
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***
When I arrived at the Harrison estate, its grandeur was overwhelming—perfect gardens, towering doors, everything so pristine it felt unreal.
“You must be Sarah,” a sharp voice broke my thoughts.
I turned to see a stunning woman descending the steps.
“I’m Veronica,” she said curtly. “Come in.”
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The house’s gleaming marble floors and sparkling chandeliers gave it the feel of a museum rather than a home.
“This way,” Veronica said briskly.
Lucas, my charge, stood by the staircase, clutching a book.
“Hi,” he mumbled, barely glancing up when prompted.
“Lucas isn’t much for talking,” Veronica said, brushing him off.
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She continued outlining the rules.
“And one more thing,” she said, stopping abruptly. “The third floor is off-limits. That’s where the grandmother lives. She values her privacy.”
I nodded, but her tone made me uneasy.
At dinner, I met Richard, Lucas’s father, a kind-eyed man who looked older than his years.
“Lucas has mentioned you,” he said warmly.
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“Has he?” I asked, glancing at Lucas as he pushed broccoli around his plate.
“He’s observant,” Richard said with a small smile.
Then there was Oliver, Richard’s eldest son, “just visiting for a while.”
That night, as I settled into my room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the house held secrets that were tied to the forbidden third floor.
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***
While tidying Lucas’s room one afternoon, I stumbled upon a dusty old photo album tucked away at the back of his closet. Its leather cover was cracked and worn as if it had been forgotten for years.
My curiosity got the better of me, and I carefully opened it, flipping through the pages.
The photographs were full of happy moments: Richard as a young man, his arm around a lovely woman who must be his first wife. Beside them was little Oliver grinning at the camera.
My lips curved into a small smile, but as I turned the next page, my heart stopped.
This is… my mother!
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There she was, smiling brightly, standing beside Richard, holding baby Oliver in her arms.
What is she doing in these photos?
I remembered how she had once mentioned working as a nanny for a wealthy family, but she had never given me any details.
Why? Why did she leave? Why didn’t she tell me?
I stared at the photo, unable to look away.
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That evening, I wandered the hallways of the Harrison house, thinking. As I passed the living room, sharp voices caught my attention. I slowed my steps, careful not to make a sound.
“Your mother keeps bringing up Kristy and her child,” Veronica hissed, her tone edged with frustration. “I’m sick of hearing about it. How much longer are you going to let her go on with these stories? Kristy existed, didn’t she?”
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Richard’s voice was heavy. “She’s old, Veronica. She doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time. Kristy was just a nanny for Oliver. My mother is mixing up memories with things that never happened.”
I froze, gripping the banister. Kristy. That was my mother’s name. They were talking about her.
My breath caught as realization hit. The grandmother knew something about my mother and this family.
Is she trying to tell them something important?
I needed answers. And I knew exactly where to start: the third floor.
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***
The next evening, I waited for my chance. Richard and Veronica left for a charity event, and Oliver was buried in a book in the study. I tucked Lucas into bed, leaving the baby monitor on the nightstand, and quietly made my way to the third floor.
My heart thudded in my chest as I reached the locked door to the grandmother’s room. I’d noticed earlier that the kitchen keyring held a small, unmarked key. Slipping back downstairs, I retrieved it, hoping it would fit. When I returned, I slid the key into the lock. It turned with a soft click.
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The room was dim, lit only by a lamp on a small table. The scent of lavender lingered in the air. An ornate rug lay beneath a chair where the grandmother sat by the window, a photograph trembling in her wrinkled hands. She didn’t look up until I stepped inside.
Her gaze landed on me, and her eyes filled with tears.
“You must be Sarah. You look so much like Kristy.”
“You… you knew my mother?” I stammered, stepping closer.
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She nodded, motioning for me to sit on the chair across from her.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” she said, clutching the photo tightly. “Your mother worked here many years ago. She was Oliver’s nanny, but she was much more than that. She was everything to Richard.”
“What do you mean?”
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Her voice dropped to a whisper, but it was filled with emotion.
“Your mother and Richard fell in love. It was a big secret. They had to hide it. Richard was already married, and my husband, your grandfather, demanded they keep up appearances for the family’s reputation. When Kristy found out she was pregnant with you, she left. She didn’t want to destroy the family. We’d been mailing for years. That’s why I have your photos.”
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The room spun around me. I shook my head, trying to process her words.
“Is Richard my father?”
Tears streamed down her face as she nodded.
“Yes, my dear. You are his daughter. I’ve tried to tell him, but he won’t listen. He thinks I’m just a senile old woman.”
Her voice cracked. “And Veronica, his new wife… She’s kept me isolated, trying to silence me.”
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I couldn’t speak. The weight of her words crushed me. She reached for my hand.
“That was my invitation in your mail. You have your mother’s spirit. And I want you to be part of our family. Sooner or later.”
“No one will believe me,” I said quietly. “They’ll think I’m here to take something or cause trouble.”
The grandmother’s expression softened.
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“In time, they will. Your mother, Kristy, was the only one who truly loved Richard for who he was, not for what he had. He knew it then, and he’ll feel it now. He will accept you because you’re part of her—the woman he truly loved.”
“I should go,” I said, hearing faint rustling through the baby monitor in my pocket. “Lucas needs me.”
“Go on, dear. We’ll talk again when the time is right.”
I slipped out, locking the door behind me. The hallway felt heavy as I descended the stairs, thoughts racing.
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Reaching Lucas’s room, I found him sound asleep, his small hand clutching his blanket. I exhaled in relief.
But, at that moment, I didn’t notice the faint sound of a door closing in my room.
***
When I entered my room, my breath caught! Oliver was sitting on the edge of my bed.
“You spoke to her, didn’t you?” he asked.
I nodded, unsure of how much to admit. “I didn’t mean to, but…”
He raised a hand, stopping me.
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“It’s fine. I overheard everything.” His face softened, the guarded expression fading. “I always knew something didn’t add up about that time. Now it makes sense.”
His understanding gave me courage, and we made a plan together. That evening, Oliver convinced Richard to call a family dinner. Even Veronica, though suspicious, had no idea what was coming.
As everyone gathered, including the grandmother, my heart pounded. Taking a deep breath, I stood up.
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“I have something to say. I didn’t come here with a plan to disrupt your family, but now that I know the truth, I can’t keep quiet.”
All eyes were on me as I told my story: how my mother had worked here, how she’d loved Richard, and the secret she carried when she left.
“I’m not here to take anything from you,” I added, looking directly at Richard. “But your mother deserves more respect than she’s been given. She’s far more capable than you think.”
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Veronica’s face reddened, but before she could speak, Richard raised a hand.
“Enough,” he said firmly.
The room fell into a heavy silence. Finally, I cleared my throat, breaking the quiet.
“I think it’s better if I leave. I didn’t come here to stay, and now you finally have a chance to make things right as a family.”
My gaze moved from Richard to the grandmother, and then to Oliver. “This is your time to fix what’s broken.”
Richard’s lips parted as if to object, but he said nothing. He only nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly.
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***
The next morning, I packed my bags. At the door, Oliver handed me an envelope with a salary. “You’ll always have a brother in me. Don’t be a stranger.”
A month later, I was invited back for my grandmother’s birthday. Lucas and Oliver welcomed me warmly, and Richard approached.
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“I ended things with Veronica. I want to make up for lost time.”
I stayed, and slowly, we became what we were meant to be. Grandmother laughed with Lucas in the garden, Oliver and I raced through morning runs, and my father and I biked along sunlit paths, sharing stories of my mother.
Together, we began to heal. At last, I had a family.
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I Accidentally Heard My Mother-in-Law and Husband Conspiring to Keep Food Away from Me Because They Thought I Was Overweight
“Play dumb. And I’ll take all the food. I’m ashamed to have such a big daughter-in-law. She’s too fat,” Noele continued, her voice dripping with disdain.
I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. Three years ago, I gave birth to our son at 40, and my body never bounced back.
I worked long hours to support our family, and I even helped Noele financially when she needed it. How could she say such hurtful things about me?
I put down my knitting and stared at the wall, trying to process what I’d just heard. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I didn’t want to cry, not now.
My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I realized I had been staring into space, my mind replaying last week’s events when Noele visited us.
I didn’t know all the missing food was her doing. She was sneakily removing food from the fridge because she didn’t want a fat woman in her son’s life.
I took a deep breath and checked the phone. It was a message from Alexander, my husband.
It said: “Hey honey, don’t wait up. My friends are insisting I stay over for a little more time :)”
Lately, he always seemed to have an excuse to stay away. I wondered if it was because of my weight, too. Did he really see me as an elephant?
I put my phone down and wiped my eyes. I needed to stay strong for my son. He was the light of my life, and I couldn’t let their hurtful words break me. But it wasn’t easy.
Every glance in the mirror reminded me of their conversation. Every meal I cooked felt like a betrayal.
I tried to focus on the positive. I had a good job, a beautiful son, and a home that I had worked hard to build. Noele’s comments couldn’t take that away from me. Yet, the pain lingered.
As I lay in bed that night, I kept replaying the conversation I had overheard. The sting of their insults was fresh, and the more I thought about it, the angrier I became.
“I can’t believe they think this way about me,” I whispered to myself, glancing at Alexander, who slept soundly beside me. “I’m the one working and buying all the food.”
I sighed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t fair. I had always tried to be kind and supportive. I put everyone else’s needs before my own, but what did I get in return? Cruel words and hurtful remarks.
Suddenly, it hit me. I had been too kind for too long. It was time to stand up for myself. I deserved respect and appreciation, not insults and judgment. I turned to look at Alexander again.
He seemed so peaceful, completely oblivious to the turmoil raging inside me.
I couldn’t keep living like this, letting their words break me down. Tomorrow, I would start making changes. I wouldn’t let Noele’s hurtful comments dictate how I felt about myself. And I wouldn’t let Alexander’s silence continue.
He needed to know how his words, or lack thereof, were affecting me. We were supposed to be partners, a team. It was time for him to step up and support me.
I woke up early, determined to put my plan into action.
After breakfast, I decided to visit the Asian market to buy some unique ingredients. As I entered the market, the variety of products overwhelmed me, but I knew exactly what I was looking for.
“Excuse me,” I said to the vendor, picking up a jar. “How much is this?”
The vendor smiled and told me the price. “These are very popular,” he said. “Great for special recipes.”
“Perfect,” I replied, adding several jars to my basket. “I’ll take these.”
Once I had everything I needed, I headed home. Alexander was out, and I knew Noele was supposed to come over in the evening. I had the whole day to prepare.
I took a day off from work to make sure everything was perfect. First, I emptied our fridge of all the old food items.
Then, I carefully filled jars and bottles with the ‘unique’ groceries I had bought, making sure they looked like the regular food jars Noele was used to seeing. I even labeled a few of them with familiar names to complete the illusion.
“This should do it,” I muttered to myself, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
After setting up the camera to capture Noele’s reaction, I took a step back to admire my handiwork. Everything was in place, and now all I had to do was wait.
I spent the rest of the day tidying up and making sure there was no evidence of my plan.
As the evening approached, I felt a mix of anticipation and nerves.
Noele arrived right on time, and I made sure to be out of the house for a few hours, giving her the perfect opportunity to raid the fridge.
When I returned home, I walked into the kitchen to find Noele pale and shaking, holding a jar filled with live insects. Her eyes were wide with shock and anger.
“What the hell is this?!” she screamed, her voice trembling.
I put on my most innocent face. “Oh, Noele, what’s wrong? Did you find something you didn’t like?”
“These… these jars! They’re filled with bugs! And some of them are still alive! Are you insane?” she shouted, her hands shaking as she held up the jar.
“Oh, those?” I replied calmly. “I thought you might enjoy some exotic snacks. I hear they’re very nutritious.”
“This is disgusting! How could you do this?” she yelled, her face turning red with anger.
I took a deep breath. “How could I do this?” I snapped. “How could you steal from me and insult me behind my back? You thought I wouldn’t find out? You thought I wouldn’t hear you calling me an elephant and plotting to take all the food I buy with my hard-earned money?”
Noele’s face paled even more. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words. I continued, my voice steady and firm.
“I’ve put up with your insults and disrespect for too long, Noele. I work hard to support this family, and all you do is take advantage of my kindness. Well, not anymore. This is my home, and you will respect it and me.”
At that moment, Alexander walked in, looking shocked and confused.
He glanced at the jar in Noele’s hand, then at me. “What’s going on here?”
“Oh, your mother is just discovering my special surprise for her,” I said calmly. “I decided to stock up on some unique groceries.”
Noele thrust the jar towards him. “She filled the fridge with insects! This is her idea of revenge!”
I wasn’t done yet.
“Actually,” I interjected, “it’s my idea of justice. You both thought you could humiliate me and take advantage of me. Well, now you know that actions have consequences. You don’t get to insult me and steal from me without facing the fallout.”
“This is outrageous! You’re out of your mind!” Noele shouted, her voice shaking with fury.
“Maybe,” I replied, meeting her glare. “Or maybe I’m just tired of being disrespected in my own home. You can leave now, and don’t bother coming back unless you plan to treat me with the respect I deserve.”
Noele stormed out, still clutching the jar, and Alexander stood there, speechless.
“I can’t believe you did that,” he finally said, his voice filled with shock. It was time to teach my husband a lesson.
“Believe it,” I said firmly. “And if you think for one second that I’ll tolerate this behavior from either of you again, think again. This is my house, and I won’t be treated like a doormat.”
Alexander looked down, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I… I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“Sorry isn’t enough,” I replied.
“You need to earn back my trust and respect. Until then, don’t expect things to go back to normal. And I hope you’re looking for a job. Because you clearly don’t help me at home. Maybe if I have the time, I can focus on my health, yes?”
From that day forward, the dynamic in our house changed. Noele didn’t dare to show us her face since then, and Alexander had a lot to make up for. Sometimes, you have to take a stand and teach people that you won’t be pushed around.
Do you think I was right to take a stand for myself?
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