The Shadow of the Past and Broken Hopes: The Story of Emily
The argument with her mother flared up suddenly, like a fire catching dry wood, though it had begun with good news. “You won’t set foot in that place to work, not over my dead body!” her mother snapped, eyes blazing with fury. “If you defy me, you’re no daughter of mine!” No amount of reasoning about the high salary or career prospects made a difference. Emily, trying to calm her mother, promised to turn down the job, but inside, a storm of questions raged. Her mother’s hands shook as she poured water into a glass, muttering, “Just what I needed—now they’ve come for you too. I should’ve left everything behind and fled when I had the chance. But where could I go with a little girl? Life was settled here… Blast it, I spilled it!” She drained the glass in one gulp, claimed she needed to lie down, and vanished into her room.
Emily stood frozen in the kitchen, stunned. “Why is Mum so upset?” she wondered. “I’ve been offered a brilliant job at a top firm. What’s wrong?” Her thoughts tangled, her chest tight with unease.
It had all started days earlier. Emily and her friend Charlotte had been chatting in the university corridor, freshly graduated and dreaming of jobs—proper ones, with good pay at prestigious companies. Charlotte had cut in: “Listen, some odd woman approached me yesterday, handed me a business card, and offered me a job. Said to bring a friend. You’re my only real mate. Fancy it?” Emily turned the card over in her fingers—a well-known London firm. “Odd. Why would a company like that recruit off the street?”
“Not interested?” Charlotte’s face fell.
“Of course I am. Let’s go—curiosity’s got me. But doubt they’ll take us. Everyone wants in there, and we’ve zero experience.”
At the interview, Charlotte got a trial period—Emily, a full-time position straight away. The reason was obvious: Emily had a first-class degree; Charlotte had barely scraped through. Overjoyed, Emily rushed home to tell her mother, only for her world to flip upside down.
When her mother had calmed slightly, Emily tried again. “Mum, please, just explain properly. What’s wrong?” she asked gently.
Her mother sighed deeply, buried her face in her hands, and stayed silent, as if gathering strength. Then she smoothed her hair, buying time. Emily waited, patient. “Never wanted you to know this,” her mother finally whispered, voice trembling. “No child should bear it.”
“I’m not a child,” Emily said firmly. “Tell me.”
Her mother smiled faintly. “To me, you always will be. Fine, here it is. When your father died, you were just a little thing. You don’t remember.”
“I was six. I remember the funeral,” Emily countered.
“Don’t interrupt,” her mother frowned. “You were too young to understand. After he died, we learned he’d had another family—twin boys. They came to the funeral too. I might’ve accepted that—what’s done is done—but the whole lot of his family knew. Knew and said nothing. They betrayed me. After the funeral, I cut them off, forbade them near you. They’ve got their own children—let them mind those. His relatives kicked up a fuss, but I warned them: if they ever came near us, we’d leave London. And they vanished. Till today.”
“How does this connect to my job?” Emily’s pulse quickened.
“That company belongs to your father’s sister,” her mother’s voice turned sharp. “She’s wormed her way back into our lives, the witch. Promise me you won’t work there!” The pain in her mother’s eyes stole Emily’s breath.
Emily hesitated. She couldn’t bear to hurt her mother, but throwing away this chance felt mad. For two days, she wavered between duty and dreams. In the end, she took the job. Her mother never forgave her. “You’re as treacherous as they are!” she screamed, pointing at the door. Suitcase in hand, Emily left home, her heart breaking.
But that wasn’t the end. At work, Emily discovered her aunt—her father’s sister—had searched for her for years. She’d known nothing of her brother’s deceit and had longed to know her niece. Hearing the truth, Emily agreed to meet her. The aunt spoke of the twins—her nephews, who’d grown up fatherless and yearned for family too. Despite her mother’s pain, Emily couldn’t turn her back on them. She wrote to her mother, begging: “I’m not betraying you. I just want to know my family.” No reply came.
A year passed. Emily thrived at work, but her mother’s absence ached. On her birthday, the phone rang. “Love,” her mother’s voice quivered, “I was wrong. Forgive me.” They met, wept, embraced, and her mother confessed: “I was terrified of losing you, like I lost everyone else.” Emily introduced her to the aunt and cousins. Slowly, painstakingly, they began stitching a new family—one with no room for old grudges.