On Thanksgiving Eve, I Took in an Abandoned Child Only to Uncover My Boyfriend’s True Intentions — Story of the Day

On Thanksgiving Eve, a single moment unraveled everything I thought I knew about love, family, and the future I’d planned. One unexpected encounter forced me to face a choice I never saw coming.

My cart was brimming with everything needed for the perfect Thanksgiving Eve: turkey, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and even a bouquet of fresh flowers for the centerpiece. It was a ritual I loved, a chance to create something warm and special, even if Paul and I hadn’t fully agreed on what “special” meant for our future.

Passing the baby aisle, I couldn’t help but slow down. Rows of soft onesies and tiny shoes drew my gaze. I imagined the life I longed for—children laughing, little hands helping set the table. Paul hadn’t warmed to the idea yet, but I told myself he would someday.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I need to grab some wine,” Paul said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. “Why don’t you finish up here? I’ll meet you at the car.”

“Okay. Don’t be long.”

He leaned in, kissed my cheek lightly, and walked away toward the liquor section. Before I could reach for the whipped cream on my list, a frantic voice startled me.

“Excuse me! Please, can you hold her for just a minute?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I turned to see a woman, her face pale and her eyes darting around. Without waiting for my answer, she placed a small child in my arms.

“I’ll be right back!” she said hurriedly and disappeared into the aisles.

The little girl was so light in my arms, clutching a well-worn stuffed rabbit and staring up at me. Her light curls framed her face, giving her an angelic, fragile look.

“Uh… hi there,” I said, crouching down to her level and carefully setting her on her feet. “What’s your name?”

“Ella,” she whispered, holding her rabbit closer.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“That’s a beautiful name.

I glanced around, hoping to catch sight of her mother, but the aisle was empty. Minutes ticked by, turning into ten. Unease settled deep in my stomach.

I couldn’t wait any longer, so I walked with Ella to the security desk to seek help to locate her mother. The staff quickly made an announcement over the intercom, but no one came forward. Ella pressed herself against my side.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Mommy said I’d spend the holidays with a new mommy,” she whispered.

The words hit me like a blow. My throat tightened as I fought back the surge of emotion.

“Lisa?” Paul approached, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and frowning as he took in the scene.

“What’s going on?” he asked, glancing between Ella and me.

I explained quickly, my words tumbling out.

“We need to take her to the police,” Paul said firmly. “They’ll know what to do.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I hesitated, looking down at Ella. Her tiny hand was still gripping mine like I was the only thing anchoring her to safety.

“Paul, I…”

“This isn’t something you can solve, Lisa,” he interrupted. “It’s not safe to keep her with us.”

I nodded, feeling a heavy weight settle in my chest as we walked to the car. Ella climbed into the backseat. She didn’t cry or fuss, she just stared quietly out the window as the streetlights flickered past.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Paul drove in silence. I glanced at Ella. Her small figure looked so vulnerable huddled in the back seat. With every passing mile, the pull to protect her only grew stronger.

“Is that turkey in the bag?” Ella’s small voice broke the silence.

“Yes,” I said, turning slightly to meet her gaze. “It’s for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“What’s Thanksgiving?” she asked, tilting her head as though trying to puzzle it out.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“It’s a holiday where we celebrate everything we’re thankful for,” I explained. “We gather with family, share a big meal, and spend time together.”

She frowned slightly. “I’ve never had a Thanksgiving. Is turkey good?”

The simplicity of her question hit me harder than I expected.

“Turkey’s delicious. And cranberry sauce, too. Have you ever tried it?”

Ella shook her head, clutching the rabbit closer. “No. Mommy says holidays are for other people.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

My heart ached for her. As the police station came into view, I felt my pulse quicken.

“Paul, pull over,” I said suddenly, pointing to a gas station on the right.

“What?” He glanced at me, his brows knitting together. “We’re almost there, Lisa. Let’s just get this done.”

“Please, Paul. I need a moment to think.”

With a huff of frustration, he turned into the gas station and parked by the pumps. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out into the crisp November air.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Paul followed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not sure we should take her to the station yet. She’s just a child, Paul. She’s never had a Thanksgiving dinner. She’s never even tasted turkey.”

“And how is that our problem?” he shot back, gesturing toward the car. “Lisa, this isn’t our responsibility.”

“Maybe not. But doesn’t she deserve one happy evening? One night where she feels safe and loved?”

“Are you serious right now? You want to bring a stranger’s kid into our home? Do you even hear yourself?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I nodded. At that moment, Paul strode to the car, opened the back door, and motioned for Ella to get out.

“Paul, wait…” I started, panic rising in my chest.

“Good luck, Lisa,” he said coldly, climbing back into the driver’s seat.

Without another glance, he pulled away, leaving Ella and me standing at the gas station.

“It’s okay,” Ella whispered, looking up at me with a brave smile.

Her words both broke and steadied me. I knew I couldn’t turn back.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Ella and I returned to the store. As we wandered through the aisles, I let her pick out a few extra decorations—paper turkeys, bright orange streamers, and even a tiny plush turkey she hugged tightly as if it were a long-lost friend.

“Can we get these too?” she asked, pointing to a pack of colorful paper napkins with cartoon pilgrims on them.

“Of course,” I said, smiling. “Anything else?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully, then grabbed a bag of marshmallows. “These.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t go back to Paul’s place, but thankfully, I had my small apartment. It wasn’t festive or particularly grand, but it was mine. So, arriving at my apartment, we began the transformation.

Ella’s enthusiasm was contagious as she helped unpack the bags. Later, she insisted on stirring the cranberry sauce, her small hands gripping the wooden spoon tightly as she stood on a step stool.

“Is this okay?” she asked, looking up at me.

“It’s perfect,” I assured her. “You’re a natural.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The apartment began to glow from the warmth Ella brought into the space. When the turkey was finally ready, I carried it to the table, and Ella gasped as if I had presented her with a treasure.

“It’s so big,” she whispered, her eyes as round as the plates I’d set out.

“Let’s eat!” I said, pulling out a chair for her.

She hesitated, standing by her seat. “This is like a real Thanksgiving, right?”

“It is. The realest one I’ve ever had.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

We sat together, and Ella’s laughter rang out as she tried cranberry sauce for the first time, her face scrunching up before she declared it “weird but good.”

Ella sat on the floor, cradling her plush turkey and staring at the glowing candles.

“Tomorrow, it’ll be over. I know I can’t stay.”

I knelt beside her, pulling her into my arms. “Ella, I wish you could. But tonight is ours, okay? No one can take this away.”

She nodded against my shoulder. “Thank you for today. It was the best day ever.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Meanwhile, a sharp knock at the door shattered the moment. I opened the door to find two representatives from Child Protective Services standing there. Behind them, Paul stood silently.

The CPS worker knelt at Ella’s level. “Hi, sweetie. We’re here to take you somewhere safe.”

Ella’s grip on my arm tightened. “Do I have to go?”

“They’ll take good care of you. I promise.”

Her small hand slipped from mine as they gently led her away. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she kept looking back at me, her turkey clutched tightly to her chest.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

As the door closed behind the CPS workers, I stood frozen, the emptiness of the apartment settling over me. Ella’s laughter still echoed faintly in my ears, but the warmth of the evening had vanished. I barely registered Paul’s footsteps as he walked up behind me.

“Well,” he said casually, his tone almost cheerful. “Let’s head to my place. We can still have that Thanksgiving dinner we planned.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I turned to him slowly. “Paul… are you serious?”

My voice wavered, caught somewhere between disbelief and anger. He frowned slightly as if he couldn’t quite grasp what I was upset about.

“What? I know tonight’s been… different, but we can still salvage it. I’ve got everything ready back home.”

“Paul,” I said, my words sharp, “how can you even think about that right now?”

“Is this about earlier? Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have left you two like that. I… I overreacted.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I stared at him. “You weren’t thinking clearly? Paul, a little girl needed one evening of love, of feeling like someone cared about her!”

He stepped closer, his hands raised in a gesture of appeasement.

“I get it. And I’m sorry. But Lisa, you can’t let this ruin everything. We’re good together as we are. Why complicate things with kids?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Paul, this isn’t just about Ella. I’m 36. It’s about the family I’ve dreamed of.”

“Lisa, I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

“Not really. Not in the way I need us to be.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am.”

“I guess this is it, then,” Paul muttered, heading for the door.

I didn’t stop him. The life I had imagined with him was nothing more than an illusion.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

That night, sleep was impossible. I lay awake, my mind replaying every moment with Ella. By morning, I drove to CPS and explained my intentions. The caseworker warned me of the challenges.

“These processes take time. It won’t be easy.”

“I’ll wait,” I said without hesitation. “However long it takes.”

Weeks passed. Finally, on Christmas Eve, the call came. My approval had been finalized. Ella was coming home.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

When I opened the door to see her standing there, her small face breaking into a smile, the weight of the past months disappeared. She ran into my arms, hugging me tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Welcome home, Ella.”

That night, we decorated a Christmas tree together, stringing lights and hanging ornaments. Ella became my miracle, the heart of every holiday to come, and the family I had dreamed of for so long.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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I Discovered My MIL Living in Our Attic — What She Was Hiding Shocked Me

When Ella hears strange noises coming from her attic while her husband, Aaron, is away, she fears the worst. But nothing could prepare her for the shocking discovery of her mother-in-law, Diane, hiding upstairs… What is going on?

It all started about a month ago, right after my husband, Aaron, left for a weeklong work trip. I’d never minded being alone in our cozy suburban house before, until the noises started.

A man walking out of a house | Source: Midjourney

A man walking out of a house | Source: Midjourney

At first, it was just the occasional soft thud from above. I brushed it off, telling myself the house was just settling. And if I’m being honest, our attic wasn’t really an attic.

It was a room on the third floor that had large windows that Aaron and I had boarded up when we moved in, and there was a thin balcony with a staircase leading to the ground floor.

We assumed that it was a sunroom or an art studio before we moved in.

An empty room | Source: Midjourney

An empty room | Source: Midjourney

I always planned on turning the space into something for myself, but the opportunity just never presented itself.

I heard another sound, and my breath caught. Old houses creak, right? Maybe a squirrel or two had found their way into the attic. But then, the sounds became more frequent, and more… human.

Whispering, faint but unmistakable.

A squirrell in an attic | Source: Midjourney

A squirrell in an attic | Source: Midjourney

One night, lying in bed scrolling through my phone, I heard it.

There it was, a low, guttural moan. My stomach twisted, my breath catching in my throat.

This wasn’t a squirrel. No way.

I grabbed my phone and texted Aaron immediately.

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

I think something, or someone, is in the attic!

His reply was just as immediate:

Ella, it’s probably nothing. I’ll check when I get back.

His casual response annoyed me. How could he be so dismissive?

I resolved to ignore the noises, telling myself I was overreacting.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

But a few days later, when I was getting ready for bed, I heard footsteps. Like real, heavy footsteps above me.

That was the breaking point. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait for Aaron to come home anymore. What was the point? There could have been someone sleeping under the same roof as me the entire time! I no longer felt safe.

Grabbing the baseball bat we kept in the garage for emergencies, I texted him again, letting him know I was going up to investigate.

A baseball bat in a garage | Source: Midjourney

A baseball bat in a garage | Source: Midjourney

His response chilled me to the bone.

Ella, please, love. Wait for me to check the attic. It’s really important that I do it.

Why wouldn’t he want me to go up there? What did he know? My mind spun with questions. Was he hiding something? Was I in danger?

Was someone squatting in our home?

A woman looking concerned | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking concerned | Source: Midjourney

Despite the knot tightening in my stomach, I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to know for myself.

With every creaky step up the narrow staircase, my heart pounded harder. I gripped the bat like it was my lifeline and pushed open the door to the attic.

The sight in front of me made me freeze.

There she was. My mother-in-law, Diane!

A narrow staircase | Source: Midjourney

A narrow staircase | Source: Midjourney

She was standing in the middle of the attic, dressed in a nightgown and robe, holding a paintbrush like a deer caught in headlights.

“What on earth are you doing here?” I shrieked, almost falling over my own feet. “Why did you moan? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

What was going on? Seriously.

An older woman holding paintbrushes | Source: Midjourney

An older woman holding paintbrushes | Source: Midjourney

Diane’s face flushed with embarrassment as she dropped the brush and held up her hands.

“Ella! Calm down! It’s not what you think!”

“Not what I think? I don’t even know what I think, Diane! You’re living in my attic?”

She sighed and rubbed her temples, muttering under her breath.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“I knew this was going to happen, but Aaron just doesn’t listen. Just… just sit down for a second. I’ll explain everything.”

I didn’t move, still gripping the bat, as if for moral support.

My mother-in-law was an assertive woman who rarely seemed fazed by anything. Seeing her look this sheepish was unsettling. After a beat, I slowly lowered myself onto a dusty box, keeping my eyes on her.

A dusty wooden box | Source: Midjourney

A dusty wooden box | Source: Midjourney

“Okay, look,” she began, her voice tinged with guilt. “Your husband is going to kill me for ruining the surprise. But you deserve to know, Ella. Aaron’s been working on something special for you!”

I raised my eyebrow.

“What kind of special involves you squatting in my attic? Are you the new resident ghost?”

She winced.

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

“I’m not squatting! Aaron wanted to create a space for you. Like… a space where you could finally turn your baking hobby into something more. He decided to renovate the attic into a studio.”

That caught me off guard.

“What? A studio?”

A woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“For your dream, Ella,” she said, gesturing around the room. “Look, this is an attic where we would be able to cook or bake up here. There’s enough room. Aaron wanted to surprise you with a space where you could bake, experiment, and maybe even start selling your creations. But he’s been terrible with design! So he asked me to come over and help. Every day, after you leave for work, I come in and oversee the contractors.”

“Contractors?” I asked.

I felt stupid. Diane was saying things, but my brain just wasn’t processing any of it.

Contractors working in a room | Source: Midjourney

Contractors working in a room | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, contractors. We’ve sorted out the plumbing so that you’ll have a fully functional kitchen. The electricians are coming in next week to sort out the plugs. And I’ve been coming in to decorate and paint and all those cute things…”

Aaron and Diane had been hiding this? Also, how had I not noticed any of it? Was I seriously that aloof?

“But why stay here?” I asked, still suspicious. “In the attic?”

An electrician working | Source: Midjourney

An electrician working | Source: Midjourney

“In the studio, you mean?” she said. “I wasn’t actually staying here full-time. I just kept coming and going through the balcony and the staircase on the side. I didn’t want to keep dropping by and risk you catching on.”

“And the moaning and groaning?” I asked.

Diane bit her lip, looking truly mortified.

An older woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney

An older woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney

“I completely underestimated how tough this would be on my back. The moans were me… stretching, darling.”

I stared at her, trying to reconcile the bizarre reality in front of me. Slowly, I took in the space. The attic, though still a work in progress, was beautiful.

The huge windows were cleaned, all the dust and grime removed, and I could imagine the light streaming in during the day. It would be perfect.

A surprised woman | Source: Midjourney

A surprised woman | Source: Midjourney

I took in the half-painted walls which bore whimsical murals of cupcakes and rolling pins. Sketches were pinned everywhere, showing shelves for ingredients, a central island for prep work, and a cozy sitting area by the windows.

Pinned on one board was a blueprint with a title in Aaron’s handwriting:

Ella’s Baking Studio

Sketches on a wall | Source: Midjourney

Sketches on a wall | Source: Midjourney

My throat tightened.

“This is really for me?” I asked.

Diane nodded, her face softening.

“He wanted you to have a space where you could do what you love. He’s been feeling guilty about how busy he’s been with work. He thought this would show how much he appreciates everything you do.”

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I sat there in stunned silence as tears pricked my eyes.

Days of paranoia, thinking there was some dark secret lurking in our attic… only to find this?

A gift born from love and thoughtfulness?

Later that evening, Aaron called. I could hear the tension in his voice when he spoke.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Ella, please tell me that you didn’t go up there. I’ll ask Kevin from next door to check.”

“I did,” I admitted. “Aaron… I don’t even know what to say.”

There was a beat of silence, followed by a soft laugh.

“Well, there goes the surprise.”

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t deserve this,” I admitted.

“According to whom?” he asked. “You’re the glue that holds our family together, Ella. This is just my way of showing you how much I love you. And that you don’t have to stay at your job if you don’t want to. This can be your new start.”

When Aaron came home a few days later, we all worked together to finish the studio. Diane proved invaluable; her eye for décor was something else.

A mural painted onto a wall | Source: Midjourney

A mural painted onto a wall | Source: Midjourney

The space turned out better than I could have imagined. Every time I step into that sun-kissed studio, surrounded by shelves lined with jars of baking delights, I’m reminded of the love that went into it.

Diane and I have grown closer since that day, though I still tease her about the “attic residency” moment in our lives.

Sometimes, life’s twists aren’t about shocking betrayals or sinister secrets; they’re about uncovering the quiet, unexpected ways the people around us show their love.

A beautiful baking studio | Source: Midjourney

A beautiful baking studio | Source: Midjourney

Brenda thought her marriage to a widower would be her chance to build a loving, blended family. But when her young stepson insists his “real mom” is still living in their house, strange occurrences and hidden secrets force Brenda to question everything she thought she knew about her new family.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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