When my stepmother packed my things and my dad stayed silent, I thought I had lost everything. But just a few days later, they showed up at my door, begging for a second chance… and by then, my life had already changed forever.
My name is Elena. I’m 23 years old, I just graduated from university, and I’m still trying to figure out my life. I thought coming back home for a few months would help.
I thought I could save some money, find a job, and get back on my feet. I didn’t think it would end up like it did.
When I lost my mother at 14, my whole world shattered. My dad’s heart broke too. For a while, it was just the two of us. Quiet dinners, dim lights, old movies we both loved. I held on to those days as if they were gold.
Then he met Carol.
I tried. God knows I tried. I stayed out of her way. I cleaned without being asked. I kept my head down. But it didn’t matter.
“You’re not my problem,” she once said when I asked if she needed help setting the table.
My dad just sighed. “Let’s not make waves, kid,” he murmured, looking at the floor.
Things got worse over time. If I forgot to unload the dishwasher? She acted like I had set the house on fire.
“Elena, you need to pull your weight,” she snapped, hands on her hips, rolling her eyes as if I were five years old.
When I turned 18, I left for university faster than I could pack a suitcase. Four years of peace. Four years of calm. Four years of missing my mom and remembering how loud Carol’s voice could be.
Coming back home after graduation wasn’t my first choice. But money was tight. Jobs were scarce. It was supposed to be temporary.
The first night back, she barely looked at me during dinner. She pushed the peas around her plate and said, “So… any plans for your own place soon?”
My dad coughed into his napkin. “Give her a break, Carol,” he said in a deep voice.
When my stepmother packed my things and my dad stayed silent, I thought I had lost everything. But just a few days later, they showed up at my door, begging for a second chance… and by then, my life had already changed forever.
My name is Elena. I’m 23 years old, I just graduated from university, and I’m still trying to figure out my life. I thought coming back home for a few months would help.
I thought I could save some money, find a job, and get back on my feet. I didn’t think it would end up like it did.
When I lost my mother at 14, my whole world shattered. My dad’s heart broke too. For a while, it was just the two of us. Quiet dinners, dim lights, old movies we both loved. I held on to those days as if they were gold.
Then he met Carol.
I tried. God knows I tried. I stayed out of her way. I cleaned without being asked. I kept my head down. But it didn’t matter.
“You’re not my problem,” she once said when I asked if she needed help setting the table.
My dad just sighed. “Let’s not make waves, kid,” he murmured, looking at the floor.
Things got worse over time. If I forgot to unload the dishwasher? She acted like I had set the house on fire.
“Elena, you need to pull your weight,” she snapped, hands on her hips, rolling her eyes as if I were five years old.
When I turned 18, I left for university faster than I could pack a suitcase. Four years of peace. Four years of calm. Four years of missing my mom and remembering how loud Carol’s voice could be.
Coming back home after graduation wasn’t my first choice. But money was tight. Jobs were scarce. It was supposed to be temporary.
The first night back, she barely looked at me during dinner. She pushed the peas around her plate and said, “So… any plans for your own place soon?”
My dad coughed into his napkin. “Give her a break, Carol,” he said in a deep voice.
