Dorothy moved through her small kitchen, her slippers making soft whispers against the wooden floor. The warm scent of roasted chicken filled the air, blending with the sweetness of freshly baked pie. She wiped her hands on her apron and glanced at the calendar hanging near the fridge. A red circle marked today’s date. “My Birthday.”
Her heart swelled with quiet hope. Birthdays always held a little magic, even when celebrated alone. But this year was different. Miley and Ryan were supposed to come. Her children. Her world. Dorothy had spent the entire day preparing their favorite dishes—fluffy mashed potatoes, golden cornbread, and tender chicken roasted with rosemary. Everything had to be perfect.
As she placed the last dish on the table, Dorothy sighed, exhausted but satisfied. She smoothed the white tablecloth, adjusting the silverware neatly. Candles flickered in the dim light, casting a soft glow around the room. She took a step back and admired her work. It looked beautiful. It looked ready for family.
Dorothy picked up a photograph resting near the candles. A younger version of herself smiled back, standing by a shimmering lake, her arms wrapped tightly around Miley and Ryan. They were so young then, faces bright with laughter and sunshine. But her fingers hesitated over the torn edge of the photo. A space where someone had once stood. Someone she had tried to forget.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she placed the photo back on the table. Tonight wasn’t about the past. It was about her children. They had promised to come. They would come.
But as the minutes dragged into hours, the house remained silent. The grandfather clock ticked steadily, each sound digging deeper into her growing worry. Dorothy walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside. The driveway was empty. No headlights. No movement. Only darkness stretching endlessly beyond the glass.
Her hands trembled as she picked up her phone. She dialed Miley’s number first. No answer. Then Ryan’s. Still nothing. Dorothy’s heartbeat quickened.
“Why aren’t they here?” she whispered, gripping the phone tightly. “Are they okay?”
Suddenly, the sharp chime of the doorbell rang through the silence. Relief flooded her. Finally! They were here! She rushed to the door, a bright smile forming on her lips.
But when she opened it, her smile vanished.
A young courier stood there, holding a neat white box.
“Miss Dorothy?” he asked politely, offering the package. “This was ordered especially for you.”
Dorothy hesitated, confusion knotting in her stomach. “Who sent it?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
The courier shrugged. “I’m sorry, ma’am. No sender information. Just the address.”
With shaking hands, Dorothy took the box and closed the door. Her heart pounded as she carried it to the table. Slowly, she lifted the lid.
Inside was a beautifully decorated cake, covered in smooth white frosting. For a brief moment, warmth flickered in her chest. Maybe Miley and Ryan had arranged this as a surprise.
Then she saw the message scrawled across the top in bold, dark icing:
“We Know What You Did.”
Dorothy gasped, her breath catching in her throat. The words swam before her eyes as a wave of cold fear crashed over her. Her hands trembled violently, and the room seemed to shrink around her.
No. No, this couldn’t be happening.
The past was buried. Hidden. Forgotten.
Or so she had thought.
Panic gripped her as she grabbed her car keys and hurried outside. She needed answers. She needed to see Miley and Ryan. Now.
Dorothy’s car screeched to a stop in front of Miley’s house. The lights inside were off. Everything was eerily still.
She ran to the front door, knocking frantically. “Miley! Ryan! Are you home? Please, answer me!”
Silence.
She pressed her face against the window, peering into the darkness. Shadows played tricks on her eyes. Was someone inside?
“Dorothy?”
She spun around, startled. Sharon, Miley’s neighbor, stood on her porch, wrapping her sweater tightly around herself.
“Sharon!” Dorothy gasped, rushing toward her. “Have you seen Miley and Ryan? They were supposed to be here hours ago!”
Sharon hesitated. “I saw them this morning. They packed up their car… said they were going somewhere important.”
Dorothy’s stomach twisted. “Did they say where?”
Sharon nodded slowly. “The lake. The one from their childhood.”
Dorothy’s breath hitched. The lake.
Memories slammed into her like a crashing wave. Sunlit days, laughter, and… something darker. Something she had spent years trying to forget.
Without another word, Dorothy ran to her car and sped off toward the lake.
The sky had turned deep orange by the time she arrived. Dorothy parked next to Miley’s car, her heart pounding wildly. She stepped out, her legs trembling beneath her.
The lake was still, reflecting the fading sunlight like glass. And there, near the old wooden gazebo, stood three figures.
Dorothy’s breath caught in her throat. Miley. Ryan.
And him.
Robert.
Her past had finally caught up to her.
Robert stood with his hands in his pockets, looking older, more tired. But his voice was the same—calm, deep, familiar. “Hello, Dorothy.”
A flood of emotions crashed into her—rage, sorrow, regret. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice shaking.
Miley stepped forward, eyes filled with betrayal. “We deserve the truth, Mom.”
Ryan’s voice was cold. “You told us Dad disappeared. But that wasn’t true, was it?”
Dorothy’s chest tightened. “I was protecting you!” she pleaded. “I—”
“Stop lying!” Miley snapped, tears shining in her eyes. “You kept us from him! You made us think he was gone forever!”
Robert raised a hand. “Enough.” His voice was firm. “Dorothy didn’t lie. I did.”
Miley and Ryan turned to him, confusion flashing across their faces. “What?”
Robert sighed heavily. “I left. I abandoned all of you. Dorothy begged me to stay, but I was selfish. I thought I needed freedom. I was wrong.”
The silence was deafening. Miley’s lips trembled. “Mom… you never told us.”
Dorothy swallowed hard. “I didn’t want you to grow up thinking your father didn’t love you.”
Ryan’s voice broke. “But we blamed you.”
Tears welled in Dorothy’s eyes. “Because I let you. Because I didn’t want you to feel the pain of knowing the truth.”
Miley stepped forward hesitantly. “Can we fix this?”
Dorothy nodded. “If we try. Together.”
Robert looked at his family—his broken, beautiful family—and whispered, “I’d like that.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the past finally loosened its grip. And for the first time in years, Dorothy felt something she had almost forgotten.
Hope.
