
After finding out she couldn’t have a baby, Annie’s doctor gave her another choice: adoption, which led to a girl named Abiona, who couldn’t speak English at first. But when her new daughter learned enough, she told Annie a secret that changed everything.
Annie sat anxiously in Dr. Martinez’s office, surrounded by posters of happy families. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with a comforting demeanor, invited her to sit.
Smiling, Annie asked, “When can we proceed with the fertilization procedure?”
Dr. Martinez took a deep breath before saying, “Unfortunately, the tests show you cannot have children. I’m very sorry.”

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Annie’s heart sank. Despite considering IVF, the doctor advised against it due to low success rates and high risks. But she suggested an alternative — adoption — and handed Annie a booklet filled with information and pictures of children needing a home.
***
Annie sat at her kitchen table, the quiet of her home enveloping her as she browsed through the booklet. She was drawn to a photo of a baby, entranced by his innocent, smiling face.
Picking up the phone with trembling hands, she called the adoption agency and made an appointment. A few days later, she met Caitlin, a social worker, who welcomed Annie into her modest office. “Sorry you had to wait,” she said, shaking her head.
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Annie replied, masking her nervousness.

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They sat and discussed Annie’s career, home life, and desire to adopt. “Can you devote enough time to a child? It’s not just a few hours a day,” Caitlin wondered.
Annie responded, “Yes, I understand. I’m ready to make sacrifices for my child.”
“Adoption can be challenging, especially in the beginning,” Caitlin continued, but ultimately, she approved Annie’s application.
“I understand,” Annie said, her voice firm. “Thank you.”
***
The next morning, Caitlin’s call interrupted Annie’s breakfast. “Hello, Annie?” she inquired.
“Yes, it’s me,” Annie replied.

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“We’ve found a child for you,” the social worker revealed and talked about Abiona, a six-year-old from Congo who didn’t speak English. “Would you like to meet her today?”
“6 years old? No English? I… I need to think about this,” Annie’s voice wavered.
“Of course, take all the time you need. Have a good day,” Caitlin responded, but Annie heard her sighing before hanging up.
Annie spent the rest of the day pondering the idea of adopting a six-year-old. Motherhood typically began with a baby, so going straight into parenting an older child seemed… odd. However, this could be her only shot.
She called Caitlin the next day with a resounding yes, and the social worker arranged a visit with Abiona, who was staying with a foster family.

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***
Arriving at the foster home, Annie knocked on the door, her heart racing. She was greeted by a woman who, in a not particularly friendly tone, said, “Hello, how’s it going?”
“Hi, I’m Annie,” she replied, fidgeting slightly. “I came to see Abiona.”
The woman showed Annie inside, and it was hard not to notice the chaotic scene of her house. Kids were running around, the television blared in the background, and the living room was full of stuff.
But the woman pointed to a corner where Abiona sat, quietly drawing. “That’s her. Good luck because she doesn’t talk to anyone,” she said and left to scold some other kids.

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Annie approached the girl, who briefly met her gaze before resuming her drawing. “Did you draw these yourself? They’re imposing,” she asked, kneeling to look closer.
Abiona nodded slightly without speaking.
The foster mother interrupted. “Don’t even try. She doesn’t understand a word of English,” she said. Annie looked up to see her sporting a superior expression.
“That’s fine,” Annie said, focusing entirely on the girl. She sat beside her and began drawing, too, attempting to communicate through pictures.

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She drew a house and a stick figure with long hair, saying, “This is my house. I live here. Do you want to live with me?”
The girl stared for a second at the paper, then at Annie’s face, before drawing a smaller stick figure next to hers. The gesture made Annie grin as her stomach fluttered.
***
She brought Abiona to her home and introduced her to her new cozy bedroom. The girl stayed silent and observant as she explored everything.
When she found paints and brushes laid out, she immediately began to draw, humming a happy tune. Annie watched for a second, taking in the moment. I’m finally a Mom, she thought before joining her new daughter.

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Over the following months, Annie tried teaching Abiona English, but the traditional methods overwhelmed her. Therefore, she adapted her approach, using drawing sessions to teach her the language in a fun, engaging way.
Abiona responded positively, slowly learning words and phrases.
One day, while exploring the concept of family with a picture book, Annie pointed to an illustration and said, “See, this is a family,” then pointed to herself, “Mom,” and to Abiona, “Daughter.”
But instead of nodding in understanding, Abiona’s reaction was unexpected; she burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?” Annie asked, patting the girl’s head.

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Abiona grabbed some of her drawings. “I have Mom and Dad,” she revealed, pointing her finger at the paper. Annie’s eyes widened. She didn’t understand because Caitlin had never talked about Abiona’s family.
“What are you saying, honey?” she asked.
“Bad…bad men took me from Mom and Dad,” the girl continued.
“Okay, okay,” Annie said, her voice turning low and soothing. “Tell me more.”
Through her broken English, Abiona explained that the evil men had taken her, but then she was with the police. She showed Annie a handmade toy, her only memory of her biological mom.

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“I little. Don’t know Mom’s face. But Mom smells honey. She give me this,” Abiona finished, biting her bottom lip and looking away to wipe a tear.
Annie was breathing heavily then, trying to contain her own emotions. A six-year-old shouldn’t have to be so strong by herself. She hugged the little girl, who began sobbing into her chest. Revealing that secret made their bond much stronger.
***
Months later, Abiona suffered a severe coughing fit in the night. Annie rushed her to the hospital as quickly as possible. “I need help! My daughter, she can’t breathe!” she wailed at the emergency room staff.
The medical team quickly attended to her daughter, leaving Annie anxiously waiting outside the exam room. Soon, she was stabilized but surrounded by beeping machines that only made things scarier. But the absolute horror came a few hours after the staff conducted several tests.

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One doctor entered the room, took a deep breath, and began. “I’m very sorry to tell you this. But Abiona is terminally ill. She only has a few days left.”
His words were careful, but they cut through Annie like a knife. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What’s wrong with her?”
The doctor explained her condition. It had a complicated name that Annie didn’t understand as her mind was fogging with the implications.
“Should I have noticed sooner? She seemed so healthy. I adopted her a few months ago. No one told me anything.”
“You couldn’t have done much even if you had noticed something. This is a genetic disease, and it manifests very unexpectedly. This is not your fault,” the doctor finished, patting her shoulder, and left.

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***
Abiona awoke an hour later.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Annie whispered, squeezing the girl’s hand. “Is there anything you want? Anything I can get for you?”
Abiona’s voice was weak but clear. “I want to see my mom,” she murmured, a wistful look in her eyes.
Annie nodded and, determined to fulfill this wish, left the hospital with Abiona’s handmade toy, hoping it held clues to finding her biological mother. She went to the police station, where they agreed to test the toy for DNA.
Miraculously, they found a match and gave Annie the biological mother’s contact information. Her name was Tendey. Despite the call going unanswered, Annie insisted on finding Abiona’s mother, even if she had to do it in person.

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She drove to Tendey’s address, gathered her courage, and knocked on the door. When a woman appeared, Annie introduced herself and asked, “Tendey?”
The woman responded quickly, impatient. “Yes. That’s me, but I don’t want to join your god. I don’t need any services, and I don’t want to buy anything,” she said, almost closing the door.
But Annie threw her arm up, stopping her. “This is about Abiona,” she blurted. “She is currently in the hospital. The doctor said that she has a serious genetic disease and has a few days to live.”
Annie thought Tendey would be dismayed, but the woman crossed her arms instead. “I gave her away. Voluntarily. Renounced parental rights. So everything that is happening now is not my problem,” Tendey stated coldly.

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“Please. She’s your daughter. She’s dying and wants to see you,” Annie pleaded.
Tendey shook her head. “Listen. I don’t want to see her. Deal with it.”
Looking beyond Tendey, into her house, Annie sighed and noticed something. “Do you sell perfumes? Do you have a honey-scented one?”
“Ugh, yes,” Tendey said, looking behind her, confused.
“How much?” Annie asked.
***
At home, Annie searched on her computer, typing away as her plan fully developed. She searched for an actress resembling Tendey and found Sarah. Annie called and explained the situation.

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Sarah was touched. “I’ll do it. It’s a strange request, but I can see it comes from a place of love,” she said. Annie provided all the details she knew about Abiona and her mother.
In the hospital room the next day, Annie and the actress prepared to fulfill Abiona’s last wish. Sprayed with honey-scented perfume, Sarah approached the girl’s bedside, carefully holding her tiny hand.
“Abiona, this is your mother,” Annie gently introduced.
Abiona, whose condition had worsened so much in just a day, believed Annie’s words easily. “You smell like Mom,” the girl whispered and opened her arms for a hug.

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Sarah obliged, saying, “It’s because I am Mom.”
Abiona turned to Annie. “Thank you,” she whispered before falling asleep again. Sarah left a while later when it became clear that the girl wouldn’t wake up any time soon.
As the sun set, Annie watched over her daughter. Her breaths were too heavy, but that had been the norm for a few hours. She whispered to her, providing comfort and assurance in the quiet room filled with the soft beeping of machines.
She touched the girl’s head at some point and noticed the intense warmth. In her weakened state, Abiona faintly murmured “Mom” before falling back into unconsciousness. Annie rushed to find her doctor, who came in, did a quick examination, and exhaled, lowering his head.
“I’m afraid this may be it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” Annie wailed, hugging her child.

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Abiona slept a little more soundly in Annie’s arms, but love wasn’t always enough. She passed after midnight with a final soft puff of air.
As the tears started flowing freely, Annie whispered, “You were loved. So loved. I’ll keep loving you forever.”
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My MIL Ruined My Wedding Dress during the Ceremony, but Karma Hit Her Back Immediately

My mother-in-law (MIL) discovered the date through my sister-in-law (SIL), Megan. On that evening during our romantic dinner, Samantha called Josh. She claimed to have had a heart attack and needed him immediately by her side.
“Josh, it’s your mother. I need you right now!” Samantha’s voice trembled over the phone. Josh’s face turned pale, but his phone buzzed again. Megan’s message popped up: “She’s faking it. Don’t fall for it!”
“Are you sure?” Josh texted back quickly.
“Yes, she’s sitting here eating ice cream and watching TV,” Megan replied. Thanks to that heads-up, he didn’t fall for Samantha’s trick! We managed to have a lovely romantic dinner and a beautiful engagement, knowing his mother was faking her condition to get his attention.
The months leading up to the wedding were a nightmare. Samantha did everything she could to sabotage our plans. She complained about the venue, criticized my dress, and even tried to convince Josh to call the whole thing off!
“Josh, do you really think she’s the RIGHT ONE for you?” Samantha would say, her tone dripping with condescension. “You could do so much better.”
“Mom, I love her. That’s all that matters,” Josh would reply, trying to keep his cool.
I thought my husband’s mother would relent, but then she showed up uninvited to my bridal shower! The woman made a scene, accusing me of trying to steal her son away and ruining his life!
“You’re nothing but a gold-digger!” she screamed in front of all my friends and family.
“Samantha, you need to leave now,” my maid of honor, Sarah, said firmly, stepping in to protect me. It seemed my MIL’s actions were becoming more desperate, but I didn’t expect what she would do next!
Fast forward to our wedding day. I hoped she had put up with the fact that her son had chosen me. BUT NO! In the middle of our wedding vows, she INTERRUPTED, claiming she had a “surprise” for me.
“I have a special gift for the bride!” Samantha announced with a sinister smile. Before anyone could react, she splashed a full bottle of red paint all over my dress. “What the hell, Mom?!” Josh screamed, his voice echoing through the hall.
I stood there in shock, my gorgeous gown ruined! I couldn’t say a word and was in shock. But Josh started screaming at her, demanding she leave immediately. “You’ve gone too far this time, Mom! Get out! Now!” he shouted.
Samantha was escorted out by a few guests who had seen enough of her antics. The ceremony continued, but the mood had been dampened. I tried to put on a brave face, but inside, I was devastated.
After the ceremony, we decided to skip the reception and head straight to our honeymoon suite. Josh was FURIOUS, pacing back and forth in our room. “I can’t believe she did that,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry, babe. This was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, trying to comfort him. “She’s the one who ruined it.” Now, you might think that’s where the story ends, but oh no. Karma was quick and had something else in store for Samantha!
A few weeks later, I learned that my MIL had a grand gala planned at her home. It was a charity event, and she had invited the crème de la crème of society. She was always so proud of her pristine house and immaculate garden.
This event was supposed to be the highlight of her social calendar. I decided it was time for a little payback. I contacted a few friends who owned a landscaping company and made a deal with them.
“Are you sure about this?” my friend Jake asked, grinning. “Absolutely! It’s time she learns her lesson,” I replied. The night before the gala, Samantha got what she deserved. Jake’s company “accidentally” mixed up addresses.
They delivered a truckload of manure to my MIL’s manicured lawn. The team then spread it all over. They ensured every inch of her precious garden was covered in the most pungent fertilizer imaginable!
The next morning, the smell was unbearable! Guests started arriving for the gala, only to be greeted by the overwhelming stench of manure. My MIL was mortified! She tried to salvage the event, but no amount of perfume or air fresheners could mask the smell.
“Welcome to my…” Samantha began. “Oh, dear lord!” one guest exclaimed, covering their nose. “Samantha, what on earth happened here?” another whispered, horrified. Guests left in disgust, and my MILl’s reputation took a serious hit!
But that wasn’t all! A few days after the gala incident, my MIL received a call from the local health department. “We’ve received a complaint about improper manure disposal,” the officer stated.
“What?! From whom?!” Samantha shrieked! Josh and I were upstairs trying to help her deal with the aftermath of the gala and came running down. With tears in her eyes, she told us what happened. “Is that so? I wonder who could have reported that,” I said with a smirk.
“Someone” had reported her for improper manure disposal. It resulted in a hefty fine and a mandatory cleanup crew that tore up her garden, leaving it in shambles. I might have tipped them off anonymously, but hey, sometimes you have to play dirty to get justice.
The icing on the cake was that I ensured the local newspaper got wind of the story! They ran a piece about the “Gala Gone Wrong.” In it they detailed how the host’s meticulous planning was ruined by a mysterious manure delivery. Samantha’s name was the talk of the town, and not in a good way!
To add another twist, my husband and I decided to take a delayed honeymoon. We wanted to spend some quality time away from all the drama. We chose a beautiful tropical destination. While we were gone, I hired a local artist to create a stunning mural on our garage door.
The mural featured a vibrant red wedding dress. It was my way of reclaiming the color red. A way for me to turn it into something beautiful rather than a symbol of Samantha’s vindictiveness.
When we returned, my MIL’s face was priceless when she saw the mural! “What is this supposed to be?” she snapped, pointing at the garage. Josh just laughed and told her, “It’s a symbol of our strength and resilience as a couple.”
When she confronted me, accusing me of orchestrating the whole thing, I smiled. “It’s funny how things work out sometimes, isn’t it?” I replied. From that day on, Samantha never tried to sabotage our relationship again. She knew better than to mess with me.
But there was one more thing I had planned. To ensure she understood the full extent of her actions, I organized a family intervention. With Josh’s help, we gathered everyone at our house. This included Megan, Sarah, and a few close friends who had seen Samantha’s behavior over the years.
“Samantha, we need to talk,” Josh began, his tone serious. “Your actions have hurt us deeply, and it’s time you faced the consequences.”
“What is this, some kind of ambush?” my MIL sneered, crossing her arms.
“It’s an intervention,” I said calmly. “We’re here to make you understand how your behavior affects everyone.” One by one, our friends and family shared their experiences and feelings about Samantha’s manipulative actions.
Tears shed, voices rose, and Samantha’s defenses began to crumble. “You’ve treated me like an outsider from day one,” I said, my voice trembling. “But no more. We deserve better.”
“I never meant to hurt anyone,” my MIL said quietly, her eyes downcast. “I wanted what’s best for Josh.”
“What’s best for me is to be happy with the woman I love,” Josh said firmly. “And if you can’t accept that, then you’re the one who’s going to be left out.” Samantha finally broke down, realizing the impact of her actions.
She apologized to everyone and promised to change.
Whether she would truly follow through was yet to be seen, but for the first time, I felt a glimmer of hope. After the intervention, things slowly began to improve. Samantha made an effort to be more involved in our lives without being overbearing.
She even offered to help replace my wedding dress. A small step towards mending our relationship. The lesson here? Don’t start a fight you can’t finish. Thanks for reading!
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