It was a bustling Monday morning. I, 29-year-old Caleb, was sitting in my office, looking through my company’s annual report on my laptop. Suddenly, a janitor, a woman likely in her late 50s, walked in with cleaning supplies.
“Excuse me, Sir… I’m extremely sorry… I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll just mop up the floor in five minutes,” she said as I looked up and experienced the massive shock of my life. The woman standing in front of me bore an uncanny resemblance to my late mother, who had died 28 years ago.
“Oh my God… it’s unbelievable,” I gasped. “It’s okay. Please come in,” I said, my gaze stalking the woman as she marched across the office. “Uh, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before but your face looks so familiar.”
The woman smiled and turned around. “My name is Michelle, Sir. I started working here only recently. This town is quite small. Maybe you would’ve seen me somewhere. But I moved here just two weeks ago.”
“I’m Caleb,” I said as my brows furrowed with suspicion. “Michelle, I don’t understand why I get this strange feeling when I see your face, but maybe you’re right,” I added as I reached for my cup of coffee, only to spill it on my laptop accidentally.
“Damn… not again!” I leaped back.
“Don’t worry, Sir… I’ll clean it up for you,” Michelle dropped the mop and hurried to my table to clean the mess. She rolled up her sleeves and started wiping the laptop with a cloth. That’s when my eyes fell on a peculiar scar on her left arm.
“There you go. Your laptop is clean!” Michelle said as she turned to me.
“This scar… Ho—how did you get it?” I asked.
“Oh, this scar…? Well, you may find it strange. But I don’t remember anything that happened to me over 20 years ago. I have amnesia… I don’t even remember my name. When I saw the name ‘Michelle’ on a billboard, I adopted it as my own… and I have no memory of how I got this scar.”
My heart started to race. “And what about your relatives and friends?” I asked Michelle while simultaneously looking at her left arm bearing the oval-shaped burn mark.
“I don’t have anybody!” Michelle said, disappointed. “Nobody came for me all these years… Not even when I was in the hospital. I lived a gypsy life and finally found a job here in this town.”
A strange sensation crawled up my gut. I knew my mind was dealing with a bizarre theory. But Michelle’s scar and striking resemblance to my dead mother left me reeling. “Michelle, you won’t believe this. But you look a lot like my late mother, who I had only seen in an old photograph,” I revealed.
“What? I resemble your late mother? Oh dear… really?” Michelle stopped in her tracks.
“Yes. You look a lot like my mother. She died 28 years ago, according to my dad,” I replied. “She had the exact same scar like this. I know this is gonna sound crazy. But can we go to the hospital and take a DNA test together? I don’t know why I’m even saying this but something is bothering me. Something doesn’t seem right and I want to find out if there are any odds….”
Michelle pondered for a few seconds. Like me, she was curious to find out if we were related, so she agreed to take the test with me.
As we drove in my car to the City Hospital, nothing but a deadly, grim silence prevailed between us. On the one hand, I was unsettled about getting a positive result. I knew I would have to sort out a lot of things and connect so many dots if Michelle turned out to be my biological mother.
“But what if I’m just assuming things?” I thought. “What if it’s just a coincidence? What if my mother is really dead and Michelle is just her lookalike?”
As I drove across the bustling road and pulled over in the middle of thick traffic, I stared at Michelle in the rearview mirror, and her eyes looked eerily familiar.
Something about those eyes of hers forced me to plunge into my memories. I sat back behind the wheel, recalling the fateful day I made a heartbreaking discovery about my mother while fixing the roof with my dad, William.
12 years ago, when I was 17 years old…
“And… like this! See! You just twist the claw hammer and pull out the rotten plank!” My dad was teaching me how to remove old, rotting wooden planks. That Saturday afternoon, we were doing minor home repairs together.
“That was a good plank and it can be used as firewood!” he said as he gathered all the worn-out planks on the lawn. I was bored of these never-ending fixes my dad taught me every weekend.
“Dad, why can’t we just hire some carpenters?” I smirked. “…and pay them to do all this stuff? It’s so tiring and boring.”
William chuckled as he plucked another plank out. “Champ, if we pay others money for the simple things we can do on our own, then we’ll go to rags like your Uncle Dexter. Moreover, we’ll become very lazy again, like your Uncle Dexter! Now get back to work and start pulling out the planks from the floor in the attic. We must replace them as well.”
“Yeah… whatever!” I squared my shoulders. I climbed up the attic, and just as I removed one of the planks on the floor, I noticed a weathered piece of paper under it.
Curiosity got the better of me as I picked it up. It was an old, crumpled photograph of an unknown woman with a baby cradled in her arms.
“Weird. Who is this woman in this picture? I haven’t seen her before…” I wondered as I flipped the photograph and saw a signature on the back with the words: “Baby Caleb with Mommy. Happy Birthday, Sweetheart :)”
“Caleb with Mommy??” I grew unsettled.
I was stunned by those words. It made no sense why my name was mentioned on the back of a stranger’s picture. First, the woman in the photo did not look like my mother, Olivia. Then, she had a weird oval-shaped scar on her left arm. I had never seen that on my mother Olivia’s arm.
Haunted by the unknown, I took the photo and climbed down the attic, making my way to my dad to find out.
“Dad, what is this? Who is she?” I approached William, who was busy making pencil marks on the new wooden planks.
“What…?” William turned around with a start.
“I found this while removing the plank in the attic… Who is she?”
Anxiety surged into William’s eyes, and his face grew ashen as though he had seen a ghost. “Wh—Where did you get that from?” he asked, uneasiness etched over his face.
“Dad… I asked you what this is. Who is this woman… And what does it mean by ‘Caleb with Mommy’ written on the back of this photo? Is that baby in her arms… me?” I added.
William was beyond shocked as he grabbed the picture from my grip. He stared at it again… and again. Uneasiness cloaked his face, and he knew he could no longer hide the truth from his son.
“Come with me,” he dropped the hammer and marched to the kitchen.
I hastily followed my dad. William grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and sat down at the dining table, anxiously tapping his fingers against the can as he looked up at me.
Caleb, trust me when I say this,” William chugged a drink and said, his tone heavy with agony. “All my life… I only wished you nothing but good. I… I wanted you to be happy… wanted you to grow up into a successful man… achieve great things. I… and my wife, Olivia, we always wanted the best for you.”
I was desperate to suppress the flood of tears. But my eyes betrayed me. “Your wife, Olivia? That means Olivia is not my mother?” I sadly asked.
William solemnly bowed his head. His silence answered my question. But William was obliged to confess the truth that struck me like a thunderbolt. “Yes, dear… Olivia is not your real mother. Your birth mother died when you were a baby… I… I’m sorry, son. I didn’t mean to—”
I was paralyzed with shock by the revelation, and the truth seemed to have upturned everything I thought I knew about my mother. “How did she die?” I broke William’s silence, desperate to know more about my mother’s fate.
“A car accident…” William replied, his voice choked with grief. “It was nobody’s fault. Fate betrayed us… and your mother was destined to leave us that day. It was an unfortunate, dark day in my life… one that I can never forget. You were just a baby. You needed a mother. I moved on with Olivia, not because I wanted a wife. I wanted to bring you a mother.”
I was shaken. But after hearing my dad out, I took the news like a grown boy.
“Dad… I understand that you wanted the best for me. That you didn’t want me to go through that pain of losing my mother,” I said, placing my hand on William’s shoulder. “But you should’ve told me earlier… And I would’ve understood everything.”
William clutched my hand tightly, unable to hold back his tears.
“It’s okay, Dad. Can you take me to her grave? I would like to go there,” I said.
“Why, of course, boy!” William agreed with a smile. “We will go there tomorrow, alright?”
“Sure!” I said and walked away as William gulped his beer and sat back.
My dad and I arrived at the cemetery the following afternoon. The silence of the graves was haunting as I marched behind him on the dilapidated sidewalk. Suddenly, William stopped before an overgrown tomb with the epitaph — Sarah — engraved on the crumbled tombstone.
“Well, hello, Sarah,” William said. “Our son is here… he has come to visit you!”
I knew there was no use in suppressing my emotions. So I let them pour out of my eyes. I fell to my knees and bitterly sobbed as I gingerly brushed my hands on the overgrown tombstone.
William walked away to his car, leaving me alone at the grave. An hour passed, and I still sat beside my mother’s tomb, talking to her about all things good and bad that had happened in my life in her absence.
“Goodbye, Mom,” I rose to leave. “I’m sorry again. Dad just told me about you. I’m still shocked… I’ll visit often. I promise.”
A loud honk of a car behind my SUV jolted me to the moment. The traffic had cleared, and Michelle leaned forward from the backseat to see if everything was alright.
“Sir, we’re getting late. I think we should keep going,” she said.
“Oh, yes! Yes, Michelle,” I replied. “I’m sorry. I was just, uhm… thinking about something. We’re almost there.”
“If you really turn out to be my mother, then that means only one thing: For 12 years, I’ve been visiting the grave of a woman I don’t even know,” I thought as I hit the gas pedal and sped to the hospital.
Two minutes later, I pulled over at the hospital parking lot and hurried inside with Michelle. I rushed to a staff nurse at the reception as Michelle hastily followed me.
“Excuse me, nurse… We’d like to take a DNA maternity test immediately,” I said. “I want the results as soon as possible. I’m ready to pay any additional amount. It’s urgent. I want the results today.”
A couple of hours passed as Michelle and I anxiously sat in the waiting hall, awaiting the test results. “So, what is the last thing you remember from your past, Michelle?” I asked, breaking the silence.
Michelle pursed her lips. “I remember opening my eyes in the woods. A woodcutter said he found me floating in the river,” she recounted. “…and then a hospital… when doctors told me I had amnesia. And now, this new life!”
My mind started haunting me. There were no fragments of her past that Michelle could recall or make peace with. At that moment, the nurse approached us and handed over a file.
“Maternity rate…99.99%!” I exclaimed as I read. “That means… you are my MOTHER!”
It felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck her. Michelle trembled as I threw myself into her arms and cried. “You are my mom, Michelle!” I said. “But why did Dad lie to me that you died in an accident at that moment?” I pondered. “I have an idea. Come with me…” I told her as we left the hospital.
***
An hour later, Michelle and I were looking out her car’s window from across William’s mansion. “Are you ready?” I asked her.
“Yes!” she replied.
“Do you remember everything I told you? You know what you’re supposed to tell him, right?” I asked.
“Yes, I remember everything. Don’t worry!” Michelle replied with a confident grin and stepped out of the car. She was nervous yet mustered the courage as she walked up to the front door of William’s mansion and knocked.
As she did, I hid in the bushes. The door creaked open moments later. “Good evening!” Michelle greeted William, who froze in his tracks after seeing her.
“Jennifer??” he gasped.
“Jennifer? No, uh, I’m Michelle,” Michelle replied with a chuckle. “I’m from Mayflower Cosmetics… I just wanted to offer your wife a gift set worth $150.”
“What? Are you kidding me? But how is this possible?” William retorted, composing his anxiety almost immediately.
Michelle smiled. “Oh, I guess you’ve confused me with someone else,” she replied confidently. “Maybe we could’ve met before… or seen each other in the life I don’t remember! The thing is, I have amnesia. I don’t remember anything that happened to me over 20 years ago.”
“Amnesia?” William stuttered after a long, nervous pause. “Oh, maybe you’re right! I likely confused you with someone.” Michelle nodded as William looked at her from top to toe. “Never mind! You just reminded me of an old friend… Uh, I’m William, by the way.”
William extended his hand, and Michelle’s gut had already started to churn with fear. “Michelle… as I said!” She shook hands with William, and at that moment, he noticed the oval-shaped scar on her left arm. He remembered his dead wife bearing a similar scar on the same spot.
“No… this can’t be real,” William was terrified as he looked Michelle in the eye.
“Look, Michelle, I didn’t mean to offend you or something,” William said. “Sorry about my behavior. I didn’t want to sound insensitive, you know! My wife is not home now. Maybe you have something for men?”
“Oh, yeah, I do!” Michelle replied.
“Great! Hey, can you join me for a cup of coffee? I could also see what you’ve got,” William said, smiling as he invited Michelle over.
“Well, why not?!” She exclaimed and followed him inside. Once they were out of sight, I called a cab and got in.
I asked the driver to wait while Michelle faced my father alone. She later told me what happened:
“I was wondering… Michelle, how long have you been in this city?” William asked as Michelle took off her overcoat and put it on the hanger.
“Two weeks!” She replied. “I still don’t know much about this place… Oh, can I please use the restroom to wash my hands? I can’t touch the cosmetics with greasy hands, and my hands are a bit sweaty….”
“Yeah, sure! The bathroom is right there… behind you. Only two weeks?” William said, his gaze fixated on Michelle’s every move. “Well, welcome to our city! I’m sure you and your family love being around here!”
Michelle turned around and smiled. “Oh, thanks! I don’t have a family as such. I live in a small rented house south of Main Street.… one at the end of the lane. To be honest, house rents here are insane… landlords aren’t considerate about single women with amnesia!” she joked as she lathered her hands with soap.
William then led her to the kitchen, which was eerily dark and quiet. Michelle was unsettled. The glinting knives in the rack heightened her fear. But she decided to keep calm, just like I had told her.
“Hey, it’s so dark in here,” she turned to William. “Do you mind if I just turn on the light?”
“Of course not!” William replied. “The switch is inside the…”
But before he could finish, he saw Michelle opening the kitchen cabinet by the door and flicking the light switch. He could not believe his eyes when he watched her do that.
“Michelle?” William said. “I must say… you have such great intuition. None of our guests were able to locate the switch until we told them it was in the cabinet by the door!”
Michelle stopped in her tracks. A strange, unsettling feeling fluttered in the pit of her stomach as she grabbed her bag and stepped back. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know how it happened. I… uh… this place kind of looks familiar to me. I don’t understand how. Guess it’s another crazy day! I think I should probably go now.”
“Hey, wait a minute… Get back here….” William ran after Michelle. But by the time he made it out of his house, he saw her boarding an old, cheap car.
“Gosh, that was close!” Michelle told me through the phone as she settled in her car. “Caleb, it seems to have worked! I thought I opened the wrong cabinet at first… but thank goodness I found the switch!”
“That’s great! Everything is fine,” I said. “And don’t worry. I’m just behind you. And yes… he is following.”
Around 20 minutes later, my taxi pulled over several yards away from Michelle’s house. I saw Michelle stepping down from her car and walking inside. Moments later, I noticed my dad’s car stop outside Michelle’s gate. After a momentous pause, the car turned around and sped away.
“Mom, do as I say,” I called Michelle from the cab. “I’ll come back in half an hour, okay? Lock all the doors. And don’t forget what I just told you… Tonight’s gonna be a game changer… and the truth will unravel itself!”
***
It was three o’clock in the morning. I was sitting in my car and quietly waiting across the road from Michelle’s house. The night was calm. The piercing shrill of crickets shattered the silence as I looked around.
Suddenly, bright headlights illuminated the stillness of the street, and I saw my dad’s car pull up in front of Michelle’s gate. I concealed my face under my hoodie and watched William emerge from the car.
In the dimly lit night, William cautiously crept into the secluded backyard of Michelle’s house. He looked around. It was eerily quiet and dark, and an open window on the balcony drew his attention.
With a calculated move, he climbed the pipeline leading to the balcony and squeezed. I could just imagine the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating the silhouette of Michelle lying on the bed.
I got out of my car and went into the house with the backup I’d planned. We got there quickly and just in time to see him pull a glimmering Bowie knife from his leather jacket and creep toward the bedside.
I clenched my fists, watching as he aimed for the stomach and chest, and began stabbing the figure on the bed several times.
Suddenly, the lights flooded the room. “You’re under arrest!” The police officers I had called burst in with handcuffs, and my mom stepped out of the closet, where she’d hidden when I gave her the signal.
My dad froze, his eyes wide with terror. He turned to the bed, pulling back the blanket in desperation. What he saw sent him reeling, a human effigy, feathers, and cotton spilling out where he thought Michelle had been.
“What—No… no, it can’t be…” he gasped, his voice trembling as realization struck him.
“William, you’re under arrest!” the sheriff said as the officers cuffed him. They led him to the station, and I followed closely behind.
In the harsh glare of the interrogation room, my dad broke. He confessed to everything that happened in the past.
He had an affair with Olivia, and when my mom discovered, she wanted a divorce. But he admitted he couldn’t bear the thought of the humiliation or the financial consequences. Instead of facing them, he’d decided to end her life.
He revealed how, during a family picnic in the woods, he had pushed her off a cliff. Thinking she had died, he fled the scene, convinced she had drowned after falling into the river below. But he had been wrong. She had survived, miraculously, only to lose her memory.
Hearing it all left me cold. I couldn’t believe the man I had looked up to for so long had done something so monstrous. But now, the truth was finally out. My mom had survived, and justice would be served. It was over—or maybe, in a way, it was just beginning.
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