I Tracked Down My Foster Sister to Take Back What She Stole 10 Years Ago but the Truth Wasn’t What I Expected — Story of the Day

I rang the doorbell, my pulse steady but my thoughts racing. The wooden door creaked open, and in front of me stood a small girl—chestnut-brown hair, wide, curious eyes, a face I could swear I had seen before. My heart clenched.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I said smoothly, keeping my voice warm but steady. “Is your mom home?”

She tilted her head. “She’s baking cookies. They smell so good. Do you want one?”

Cookies. Just a normal morning in this house, while my world had been spinning off its axis.

Behind me, I heard the sound of a car door slamming. Belinda stepped out, brushing her hair back, but the moment the girl saw her, her face lit up like a thousand-watt bulb.

“Aunt Belinda! I missed you so much!”

“Well, are you going to invite us in?” I teased.

The girl spun around, sprinting back inside. “Mamá! We have guests! You won’t believe it—Aunt Belinda is here!”

From the shadows of the house, a figure appeared. Nina. She stepped into the doorway, her face immediately darkening. Her eyes flicked from Belinda to me, then back again.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she hissed. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, I think we do.”

“You still can’t let things go, can you, Vivi?”

“Let go? Oh, you mean like the way you let go of our friendship? How you let go of the truth about my daughter? And then—oh, best part—you let go of any common sense and decided to take my granddaughter too?”

Nina’s face turned stone-cold. “I was there for Belinda when you weren’t. I raised her, I protected her, and when she had no one, I was the one who saved her and Daisy from your wrath.”

Belinda finally found her voice. “That’s not…”

She faltered when she saw the way Daisy watched her, pure admiration in her young eyes. But a new voice cut through the chaos before either woman could launch into another round.

Scooter. Of course.

“You know,” he said, flipping open his notebook, “this whole argument feels a little dramatic. Like a telenovela.”

“Scooter! You must be in the car.”

Nina exhaled sharply, then turned to Daisy. “Go play outside, cariño. Take Scooter with you.”

Daisy hesitated but nodded, grabbing Scooter’s hand and leading him away.

“Alright,” Nina said, rubbing her temples. “Come inside. Let’s just get this over with.”

And then, right as I stepped forward, a shadow moved behind me.

“Well,” came Harold’s smooth drawl, “if we’re having tea, I hope you saved me a cup.”

Nina’s eyes widened. Her knees buckled. And before I could grab her, she collapsed.

***

The hospital smelled like disinfectant and worry. The hours stretched long, turning minutes into eternities. We had been there all night.

Scooter had fallen asleep in my arms, his little head resting against my shoulder as I gently stroked his back. Belinda brought coffee cups and a paper bag from the café downstairs. Harold walked the hallway in steady, restless strides, his hands behind his back, nodding to passing nurses as if he were part of the hospital staff.

My phone had been ringing off the hook. I had ignored it as long as I could, but eventually, I picked up and confessed everything to Greg. He hadn’t even hesitated.

“I’m coming. Right now.”

When the doctor finally emerged, we all straightened. “She made it through surgery,” he began. “But her heart is weak. The next 48 hours will be critical. Right now, she needs a blood transfusion.”

I didn’t hesitate. “We have the same blood type. Take mine.”

Harold opened his mouth to argue, but I shot him a look. He knew better than to fight me on this. Soon, I was lying in a bed beside Nina, an IV running between us. A strange, silent connection that neither of us had ever expected.

For a long time, neither of us spoke.

Then, in a hoarse whisper, she asked, “Who’s Scooter?”

“Greg’s son.”

“Greg? He had kids?”

“Two. Mia and Scooter.” I hesitated before adding, “Belinda… she can’t have children.”

Nina’s face softened, her lips parting slightly as if the realization had just hit her. “That’s why she wants Daisy.”

“She doesn’t want to take her away,” I said carefully. “She just wants to be in her life.”

Nina exhaled, long and shaky. “You don’t understand. I was alone my whole life, Vivi. But then Daisy came, and she made everything better. I can’t lose her.”

“You were never alone. You just didn’t want to see it.”

Before she could respond, the door burst open. Greg stormed in, Veronica hot on his heels.

“Where the hell have you all been?!” Greg’s voice thundered across the small hospital room. “Mom, I swear, if this is another one of your insane schemes…”

“Relax, dear,” I drawled, rubbing my arm. “I was just casually donating blood.”

Then came the next wave—Margo and Dolly, rushing in with the frantic energy of women who had been pacing for hours.

“Do you have any idea how worried we were?!”

“You disappear for hours, and then we hear you’re in the hospital—again?!”

Scooter, fully awake now, ran in last, tugging Harold behind him.

“She’s awake!” he beamed. “Does this mean we can finally get answers?”

Before I could respond, a stern voice sliced through the chaos. “Enough!”

A nurse stormed in, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. “This is a hospital, not a town hall meeting! Mrs. Carter needs rest. You all need to leave.”

One by one, they filed out, grumbling but obedient.

A nurse unhooked me from the IV and gently guided me toward the door. “You should rest too. I’ll set you up in another room while you recover.”

As I turned to leave, I glanced over my shoulder—and saw Harold still standing there.

The nurse gave him a warning look. “Sir, visiting hours are over.”

He held up a hand, silently pleading. “One minute. Just one.”

She sighed but relented. “Fine. But keep your voice down.”

I lingered in the doorway, just for a second. Harold stepped up to Nina’s bed.

“You need rest,” he said. “Come stay with me. Daisy can come too.”

Nina’s brows pulled together. “What?”

“We’re old, Nina. We shouldn’t be raising kids like parents. We should be playing the role we’re meant to—grandparents.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “You think Daisy would still see me as her mother?”

“You’ll figure it out. In the meantime, you need support. And you need to fix things with Belinda.”

Nina hesitated. Then, slowly, she nodded.

The doctor entered with a firm expression. “Alright, visiting hours are officially over. Everyone out.”

Harold grinned, glancing at me as I made my way toward my new hospital bed.

“Except me, doc. I’m staying.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. But don’t let her boss you around too much. You’re already annoying as it is.”

And with that, I let the nurse guide me away, exhausted but strangely… at peace. For now.

***

Two weeks had passed, and for the first time in years, the house felt whole. That evening, it was buzzing with life. Everyone was together for dinner: Greg, Veronica, Mia, Scooter, Belinda, Daisy, Harold, and even Nina, fresh from the hospital but looking more at ease than ever.

She had moved in with Harold, who, to my great surprise, turned out to be a rather excellent caretaker. Always fussing over her tea temperature, making sure she didn’t lift a finger.

And Daisy? She had naturally fallen into a rhythm—calling Nina her “older mom” and Belinda simply “Mom.”

And despite her past fears, Belinda had turned out to be a wonderful mother. She did everything with such ease, as if she had been doing it for years.

I watched as Belinda carefully helped Daisy serve the salad, the little girl looking up at her with pure admiration.

Harold leaned in beside me, his voice low and smug. “You see? You stir the pot, but in the end, things always settle.”

I rolled my eyes. “Enjoy the moment while it lasts.”

The mood was light, laughter filling the air as plates clinked and conversations overlapped.

Greg wiped his mouth with his napkin and smirked. “Mom, I gotta admit, we never expected life with you to be this… entertaining. You certainly don’t let us get bored.”

Mia, ever the peacekeeper, nudged him. “Dad, be nice to Grandma Vivi.”

Veronica sighed dramatically. “Honestly? I feel like this is my real home now.”

Scooter, scribbling in his ever-present notebook, nodded in approval. “This house is full of secrets. It’s perfect for my detective practice! Especially now that I have my own office in the attic.”

Harold chuckled, wrapping an arm around Nina’s shoulder. Then, just as I let myself believe this dinner might pass without a single disaster…

A knock at the door. The entire table fell silent. Everyone glanced at one another. We weren’t expecting anyone. I pushed my chair back and made my way to the door, my heart tapping just a little too fast against my ribs. When I opened it, a man my age stood there, grinning widely and holding a massive bouquet of flowers.

“PATRICK,” I breathed, my stomach sinking.

Before I could react, he stepped forward—uninvited, as always.

“Vivi!” he boomed. “Oh, it’s so good to see you! Wow, look at this place! Big family dinner, huh? What’s the occasion?”

His words tumbled out, unstoppable, and his energy was so relentless that standing near him made my head hurt.

I blinked, still processing. Patrick. My ex. The man who, at one point, had been charming, exciting… until I got exhausted just from keeping up with his constant talking, his impulsive plans, his utter inability to take a hint.

He beamed at me, shaking the bouquet for emphasis. “I drove so far to see you! I can’t believe I finally found you!”

Wait. Found me?

I opened my mouth to demand how he had tracked me down, but he was already stepping past me, looking around like he belonged.

“You don’t mind if I join, do you?” he asked, already setting the flowers down on the counter. “Let me just wash my hands first. Bathroom’s that way, right? No worries, I’ll find it!”

And with that, he disappeared down the hall.

Behind me, my entire family stared in stunned silence.

Greg slowly set down his fork. “Mom. Who the hell was that?”

Harold narrowed his eyes. “Should I throw him out, or are we letting this one stay?”

Veronica, phone in hand, whispered to Mia, “Oh my god, this is better than reality TV.”

Scooter, without missing a beat, grabbed his notebook. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he murmured, “Now this… this feels like the start of another mystery.”

And I… I just rubbed my temples. Because, honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

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If you enjoyed the third part of the story, read the previous one: I thought I could sneak away, bury the past for good. But when my grandson blackmailed me into taking him, my daughter forced her way in, and my ex conveniently needed a ride—I knew the past wasn’t done with me yet.Read the full story here.

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