Chapter 6: The Secret About My Mother
Nobody spoke after Amanda said those words.
Not even Amanda.
It was like she had accidentally opened a door she had spent years trying to keep locked.
Dad slowly stood.
“What did you just say?””
Amanda looked away.
“I shouldn’t have said that.””
“No.””
Dad’s voice was calm.
But I knew him.
That calm meant he was hurt.
“Say it again.””
Amanda shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter.””
“It matters.””
I looked between them.
My heart was beating faster.
Because suddenly this wasn’t about lunch anymore.
It wasn’t about noodles.
It wasn’t about chicken.
It was about my mother.
Dad crouched beside me.
“Ethan, go with Lily for a minute.””
I didn’t want to leave.
But Dad’s eyes told me he was trying to protect me.
Lily took my hand.
We walked toward the hallway.
But before we left, I heard Amanda say something.
“Your mother wasn’t the person you think she was.””
I stopped.
Dad immediately responded.
“Don’t.””
One word.
But it carried years of anger.
Lily pulled my hand gently.
“Come on, Ethan.””
We went upstairs.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about those words.
My mother.
The woman I barely remembered.
The woman Dad always described as kind.
Could Amanda really know something about her?
That night, Dad sat beside me again.
The room was dark except for the small lamp near my bed.
“Are you okay?””
I nodded.
Then shook my head.
“I don’t know.””
Dad looked down.
“I’m sorry.””
“Why?””
“Because adults sometimes make choices that hurt children.””
I looked at him.
“Was Mom bad?””
Dad’s face changed.
“No.””
The answer came immediately.
“Your mother was one of the best people I ever knew.””
“Then why did Amanda say that?””
Dad was silent.
That silence scared me.
Finally, he said:
“Because Amanda was there when your mother died.””
I stared at him.
“She was?””
Dad nodded slowly.
“She knew things about your mother’s final days.””
“Things you don’t know?””
He looked away.
And that was when I realized something.
My dad was hiding something too.
The next morning, I woke up and found a small box on my desk.
I knew it wasn’t from Dad.
Because Dad was downstairs.
Inside the box was a photograph.
An old one.
It showed my mother holding me as a baby.
And beside her was Amanda.
My hands started shaking.
Because on the back of the photo was a handwritten note.
I couldn’t read all the words.
But I recognized one name.
Amanda.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned around.
Amanda was standing at my bedroom door.
She looked at the photo in my hands.
And whispered:
“Your father never told you the truth about why I became your stepmother.””
I froze.
Because before Dad came upstairs…
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Amanda closed the door behind her and said:
“Ethan, your mother asked me to protect you.””
