I hadn’t dated much. After watching people disappear, I became selective. But last year, I met Marisa at the hospital — a nurse practitioner.
I even bought a ring, keeping it hidden in a small velvet box in my nightstand.
The Day Everything Almost Fell Apart
One evening, Marisa showed up at my door, panic written across her face. She held out her phone. “Your daughter is hiding something terrible from you,” she said, pointing to security footage.
I froze. A hooded figure entered my bedroom, fiddled with my safe, and stole money — my emergency cash, Avery’s college fund paperwork. My stomach dropped.
“I… Avery wouldn’t do this,” I whispered.
Marisa’s face tightened. “You’re blind where she’s concerned,” she said.

I stormed upstairs. Avery was at her desk, headphones on, pretending everything was normal. “Avery, have you been in my room when I wasn’t home?”
“Something’s missing from my safe,” I said.
Confusion, fear, and then anger crossed her face — her characteristic stubbornness.
“It wasn’t me, Dad! My gray hoodie disappeared two days ago. I thought maybe you washed it!”
I realized then that the figure in the footage wasn’t her. Marisa had manipulated the situation to make it look like Avery had stolen from me.
The Truth About Marisa
I confronted Marisa, and she revealed the truth: Avery was not my biological daughter. She accused me of pouring my life into someone who wasn’t “really mine.”
I cut her off. “Get out. You’re choosing yourself over my daughter.”
Avery had heard everything. “Dad,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to…”
I pulled her into my arms. “I know, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. No job, no woman, no money is worth losing you. Nothing.”

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