Seven months pregnant, I agreed to house-sit for my brother and his wife while they vacationed. One afternoon, I stumbled across three mysterious trash bags in the basement. What I found inside made me run for my life and haunts me to this day.
“Run, faster, faster, Celina,” a voice screamed in my head as I stumbled through the dense woods behind my brother’s mansion. Seven months pregnant, I gasped for air, one hand clutching my swollen belly, the other pushing away branches that scratched at my face…
A woman running in the woods | Source: Midjourney
The next bus stop was just beyond these trees. How could I have been so blind? So trusting?
I glanced down at my trembling hands, sticky with drying blood. Wiping them on my dress, I whispered, “We’re safe, my baby. We’re safe. Someone will get us home.”
It all started two weeks ago…
I was curled up on the couch, scrolling through my phone when it buzzed with an incoming call. My brother Victor’s name flashed on the screen.
A smartphone with the screen flashing with an incoming call | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, big bro! What’s up?” I answered, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension that had been building between us lately.
“Celina! How’s my favorite sister?” Victor’s voice boomed through the speaker. “Listen, I’ve got a huge favor to ask. Anne and I are heading out of town for a week. A friend’s wedding plus a little vacation. Any chance you or Paul could house-sit for us?”
Before I could respond, I heard rustling and then my sister-in-law Anne’s voice came on the line.
“Oh, Celina, you’ll love staying here! Don’t worry about a thing, sweetie. The house practically runs itself.”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I hesitated, thinking about the cold shoulder Anne had been giving me lately.
Our relationship had become increasingly strained over the past year, ever since Paul’s business took off and our financial situation improved dramatically.
Meanwhile, Victor had faced a string of failed ventures, and I could see the toll it was taking on him and Anne.
Portrait of an upset couple | Source: Midjourney
The last straw seemed to be my pregnancy announcement. While the rest of the family had been overjoyed, Anne’s reaction was lukewarm at best.
She didn’t even bother to show up for the gender reveal party, citing being “too busy” when I called to ask why she’d missed it.
I knew it was a lie. Anne and Victor had been trying for years to conceive, with no success due to some health issues she faced. My easy pregnancy seemed to be salt in her wounds.
A gender reveal party | Source: Midjourney
There was also the incident last month when Anne hosted a party to celebrate Victor finally landing a big contract. Paul and I weren’t invited, and when I politely confronted her about it later, she brushed it off with a flimsy excuse about “limited space.”
The hurt and confusion I felt then still lingered.
But now, here she was, asking me to house-sit. Was this her way of extending an olive branch? Maybe she was finally ready to move past her jealousy and resentment.
A woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
Despite my reservations, I found myself wanting to believe that this could be a turning point in our relationship.
“Sure, I’d be happy to,” I said, hope creeping into my voice. “When do you need me?”
“Morning, eight, yeah?”
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
As I hung up, my husband Paul walked in, his brow furrowing as he took in my expression.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
A concerned man smiling | Source: Midjourney
I explained the situation, watching as concern clouded his features.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked gently. “Things have been tense with Anne lately.”
I sighed, rubbing my belly absently. “I know, but maybe this is her way of trying to patch things up? Besides, it might be nice to get away for a bit before the baby comes.”
Paul didn’t look convinced, his brow furrowing with worry.
A worried man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
“I wish I could join you, but I’ve got those crucial client meetings all week,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Are you absolutely sure about this, darling?”
I nodded, trying to project more confidence than I felt. “It’ll be fine, honey. I can handle it.”
Paul didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”
I leaned in, kissing him softly. “I promise. I’ll be fine.”
A pregnant woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
The following morning, I stood outside Victor and Anne’s mansion, waving goodbye to Paul as he drove away after dropping me.
My brother and sister-in-law emerged, suitcases in hand.
“Celina!” Victor swept me into a gentle hug, keeping a distance from my bulging belly. “Thanks again for doing this. We really appreciate it.”
Silhouette of a woman standing outside a mansion | Source: Midjourney
Anne’s smile seemed forced as she air-kissed my cheek.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, her voice overly sweet. “Everything you need is inside. We’ve got to run to the airport. Have a great week, darling!”
And just like that, they were gone, leaving me alone in the massive house.
A worried woman in a mansion | Source: Midjourney
I wandered from room to room, feeling oddly out of place.
My phone buzzed with a text from Paul: “Miss you already. Call if you need anything. Love you both. 😘“
I smiled, replying quickly before settling onto the couch. As night fell, the house seemed to grow larger and emptier.
The taxidermied animals on the walls seemed to stare back at me, intensifying the feeling that I was being watched.
A pregnant woman sitting amid an eerie display of taxidermied animals | Source: Midjourney
Three days passed in a blur of Netflix binges and long naps.
On the fourth morning, I decided to be a little productive. After my daily call with Paul, I cleaned the kitchen and headed to the basement to check on the furnace.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes fell on three large garbage bags tucked in a corner.
“Weird,” I muttered. “Anne must’ve forgotten to take these out.”
Three fully-loaded trash bags in a basement | Source: Midjourney
I snapped a quick picture, sending it to her with a joking message: “Forgot something? Don’t worry, I’ve got trash duty covered!😉”
Seconds later, my phone exploded with notifications. A text from Anne read: “DON’T TOUCH THEM! SERIOUSLY, GET OUT OF OUR BASEMENT! NOW.”
Before I could process her reaction, she called.
I answered, confused. “Anne? What’s wrong?”
“Celina, listen to me,” she hissed. “Get out of the basement. Now. Don’t look in those bags. Just go upstairs and pretend you never saw them.”
A woman gaping in shock as she holds her phone | Source: Midjourney
“But—”
“Just Go. Please.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, backing away. “I’m leaving now.”
I hung up, my heart pounding. What could possibly be in those bags that would make Anne react like that?
Despite every instinct screaming at me to run, curiosity won out.
An alarmed pregnant woman standing against the backdrop of trash bags in a basement | Source: Midjourney
I approached the nearest bag, my hands shaking as I untied the knot.
As I pulled it open, the bag tore and the contents spilled out onto the floor. The moment my eyes registered what lay before me, my blood turned to ice in my veins.
Ritual tools. Decayed chicken bones and feathers. And voodoo dolls. Dozens of crude, handmade dolls, each bearing a photo of MY FACE. Many were stained with a dark, reddish-brown substance and reeked of rot. The stench of decay filled the air, making my stomach churn.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, stumbling backward. “Oh my God, oh my God. This can’t be—”
A voodoo doll with a woman’s picture on it | Source: Midjourney
I fumbled for my phone, dialing Paul with trembling fingers.
“Baby,” I choked out when he answered. “I need you to come get me. Now.”
“Celina, breathe,” Paul’s voice crackled through the speaker. “What happened?”
A terrified woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
I tried to explain between gasps, my words tumbling out in a panicked jumble.
“Bags in the basement… voodoo dolls with my face… blood… Paul, I think Anne’s been trying to curse our baby!”
“Jesus Christ,” Paul muttered. “Okay, listen to me. Get out of that house right now. Don’t wait for me, just go to the bus stop on the main road. I’m on my way.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I raced up the stairs, pausing only to grab my purse before bolting out the front door. The woods behind the house offered a shortcut to the road, and I plunged in without hesitation.
A frightened woman running in the woods | Source: Midjourney
Branches whipped at my face as I ran, my pregnant belly making it hard to maneuver. I could hear my ragged breathing, punctuated by the snapping of twigs beneath my feet.
Finally, I burst out onto the road, the bus stop just a few yards away. I collapsed onto the bench, gulping in air, my hands and clothes smeared with dirt and blood from my frantic flight through the woods.
Paul’s car screeched to a halt in front of me minutes later. He leapt out, rushing to my side. “Celina! Are you okay? The baby?”
A startled man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
I nodded weakly, allowing him to help me into the car. As we sped away, I recounted everything I’d seen in a shaky voice.
Paul’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted them,” he muttered. “Especially not Anne. The way she’s been acting lately…”
“I can’t believe she’d do this,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “My own sister-in-law… how could she hate me this much?”
Paul reached over, squeezing my hand. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, let’s just get you home and safe.”
A shocked woman holding her face | Source: Midjourney
The next few days passed in a haze of fear and disbelief.
Anne called repeatedly, but Paul insisted I shouldn’t speak to her until Victor returned. When they finally got back from their trip, I steeled myself for the confrontation.
We met at a neutral location, a quiet café downtown. Victor looked confused and concerned as I recounted what I’d found, while Anne’s face cycled through shock, anger, and finally, defeat.
A shocked young man | Source: Midjourney
“Is this true?” Victor demanded, turning to his wife. “Have you been… what, practicing witchcraft against my sister?”
Anne’s shoulders slumped. “I… I was jealous,” she whispered. “Your sister got everything so easily… the perfect husband, the thriving business, the baby. I just wanted what she had.”
Victor recoiled in horror. “This is insane, Anne. You need help.”
An alarmed woman looking at a man | Source: Midjourney
“I’m so sorry,” Anne sobbed, reaching for my hand. I pulled away, shaking my head.
“Sorry isn’t enough. You tried to hurt my baby. I can never forgive that.”
In the weeks that followed, our family splintered. Victor filed for divorce, unable to reconcile with Anne’s actions. My parents were devastated, torn between their children and the shocking betrayal.
As for me, I struggled to shake off the fear and paranoia that had taken root. Every unexplained noise, every twinge in my belly sent me into a panic.
Paul was my rock, holding me through tearful nights and accompanying me to every doctor’s appointment to ensure our baby was healthy.
A sad woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
Slowly, life began to normalize. But as I sat in our nursery, folding tiny onesies and dreaming of the future, I couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of unease.
My phone buzzed with a text from a friend: “How are you holding up?”
I typed out a response, trying to put my jumbled thoughts into words: “Still processing everything. It’s hard to believe someone so close could betray us like that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: don’t blindly trust someone just because you know them. Terror can strike from unexpected places, even from those closest to you. Stay safe out there.🙏🏻“
I set down my phone, resting a hand on my belly. Our daughter kicked, strong and healthy despite everything. “We’re okay, little one,” I whispered. “We always will be.”
A woman holding her baby bump | Source: Midjourney
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.
I Had My Son Do a DNA Test Which Confirmed Paternity, but Then His Fiancée’s Mother Called and Left Me Totally Shocked
Let me tell you about my son, Ryan. His journey through college was pretty much like any other kid’s, filled with ups and downs, late-night study sessions, and the occasional party. It was during his senior year, though, that he dropped a bombshell on me that would change the dynamics of our family forever. Ryan told me his girlfriend, Shelly, was pregnant.
Now, Ryan’s a good kid — responsible, kind-hearted, and a bit naive when it comes to matters of the heart. So, when he shared the news, my first instinct was to ensure he wasn’t walking into a situation blindly. I suggested a DNA test, just to be sure. Ryan, bless him, took the advice in stride and got the test done. When the results confirmed he was the father, he didn’t hesitate to stand by Shelly and start dating her officially.
A guy in college studying | Source: Pexels
The first time I met Shelly, I knew we were going to have a rough start. She confronted me about the DNA test, accusing me of thinking the worst of her. I tried to explain it was just a precaution, a standard piece of advice I’d give in any similar situation, but the damage was done. Our relationship started on the wrong foot, and despite her integration into the family, things between us never warmed up. I decided to keep my distance for the sake of peace, being civil at family events but nothing more.
A pregnancy test | Source: Pexels
Time passed, and Ryan and Shelly’s relationship blossomed into an engagement. That’s when things took a turn for the worse. Shelly, for reasons known only to her, began slandering me to anyone who would listen. She painted me as this villain, twisting my words and actions into something sinister. It was like she was on a mission to turn my own family against me, and the sad part was, it was working. My son, caught between his mother and his future wife, felt he had to make a stand. He gave me an ultimatum: apologize to Shelly for things I never said or did, or be barred from their wedding.
A guy proposing to his girlfriend | Source: Pexels
I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Apologizing for things I hadn’t done would be admitting guilt to lies and slander, but standing my ground meant missing one of the most important days in my son’s life. In the end, I chose my integrity, refusing to apologize for offenses I hadn’t committed.
Consequently, I was uninvited from the wedding. The fallout was immediate and painful; friends and family turned their backs on me, swallowing Shelly’s stories without a second thought. It was a lonely time, filled with a lot of soul-searching and questioning where things went wrong.
A sad man | Source: Pexels
Then, two weeks before the wedding, out of the blue, I received a phone call that would throw everything into even more chaos. It was Shelly’s mother, Jen — a woman I had barely interacted with, given my strained relationship with her daughter. Her voice was anxious, laced with an urgency that immediately set off alarm bells in my head.
A man on the phone | Source: Pexels
“Hi. Get in the car and drive to me, it’s urgent.”
“Hey Jen. What’s that?”
And then she dropped a bombshell on me. Her words were rushed, urgent, and they carried a weight that I couldn’t immediately understand. “We need to cancel the wedding,” she said, a statement so bold and out of the blue that it momentarily took my breath away. “I found out Shelly really was lying all this time. I can’t allow your son’s life to be ruined like this.”
A woman on a phone call | Source: Pexels
My heart skipped a beat. “But how? The test showed he is the father,” I responded, my mind racing through the implications of her words.
Jen’s next question caught me off guard. “Didn’t your son say where they did the test?” I realized then that Ryan had never mentioned specifics, and a sinking feeling began to take hold. Jen revealed something that made the pieces start to fall into place in the most unsettling way.
Test tubes with liquid | Source: Pexels
The paternity test — Shelly had arranged it through her father, Jen’s ex-husband, a detail that Ryan, nor I, had been privy to. Jen was convinced the results we’d been shown were fabricated.
My heart pounded as the truth began to dawn on me. Ryan had never seen the actual test results, only the conclusions as presented by Shelly’s father. The realization hit me like a freight train: we had been deceived on the most fundamental level.
A shocked man reading a letter | Source: Pexels
In the days that followed, the truth unraveled like a thread pulled from a sweater, undoing the fabric of lies Shelly had woven. It turned out Shelly had been dating multiple guys and got pregnant accidentally. The real father was someone with no means to provide, and somehow, Shelly decided to pin her hopes and future on Ryan, my son, exploiting our family’s financial stability.
A pregnant woman | Source: Pexels
The fallout was devastating. Ryan was heartbroken, his trust shattered by the person he had been ready to build a life with. The wedding was called off, and the family was thrown into turmoil, trying to grapple with the deception and its implications. Shelly, faced with the exposure of her lies, chose to leave, moving in with her father, the same man who had aided her deceit.
A bride on her own | Source: Pexels
It was a trying time for all of us, especially for Ryan. Yet, through the storm of emotions and upheaval, there were unexpected silver linings. Jen and I, once at odds because of our children’s relationship, found common ground in our mutual concern for our kids’ well-being. We started communicating periodically, a connection forged in the fire of our shared ordeal.
A sad young man | Source: Pexels
The aftermath was a period of healing and reflection. Ryan took time to mend, leaning on his family and reevaluating what he wanted for his future. It was a tough lesson in trust, love, and the complexities of relationships. But eventually, he emerged stronger, more resilient, and with a clearer understanding of himself and his values.
A happy older man on the phone | Source: Pexels
In the end, life has a way of moving forward, of healing wounds and offering new paths. Ryan found peace, and our family found unity in the face of betrayal. Shelly’s departure marked the end of a tumultuous chapter, but for us, it was the beginning of something new — lessons learned, bonds strengthened, and a future filled with hope.
How would you have reacted when you heard your son was being taken advantage of? Let us know on Facebook.
Meanwhile, here’s another story about a DNA test that exposed a mother-in-law’s secret.
I Did DNA Test to Prove I Didn’t Cheat on My Husband, Exposed My MIL’s Humiliating Secret Instead
Marrying Jake was the culmination of every dream I’d ever had about love and family. At 25, I felt like the luckiest woman alive, stepping into a future that seemed as bright and promising as the man standing beside me at the altar. Our life together was everything I’d hoped for, a perfect blend of love, laughter, and shared dreams. Yet, amidst this idyllic existence, there lingered a shadow, a detail so significant it threatened the very fabric of our happiness.
A sad older woman | Source: Pexels
Two months ago, we welcomed our daughter, Jess, into the world. Her arrival should have been an unblemished joy, but instead, it became the center of unwelcome speculation. Jess had vibrant green eyes, a trait that stood out as an anomaly in both our families, sparking whispers and doubts about her paternity.
A frustrated young couple | Source: Pexels
Despite Jake’s unwavering trust in me, the constant barrage of insinuations from our families wore us down. In a bid to silence the gossip and solidify our family against external doubts, I suggested a paternity test, a decision that Jake initially resisted. He believed in us, in me, and saw no need to prove our truth to anyone. However, the persistent whispers eventually led us to proceed with the test, hoping it would put an end to the speculation.
An older man with a book open in front of him | Source: Pexels
The day the results came, we decided to face the music together, inviting our families over for a dinner that would reveal more than anyone had bargained for. As I stood before them, test results in hand, the tension was palpable. “Jess is indeed your daughter, but your dad isn’t actually your dad,” I revealed, my words hanging in the air like a thunderclap.
An adult son sitting with his stressed father | Source: Shutterstock
The reaction was immediate and visceral. My mother-in-law, Janice, paled, her actions betraying her before words could. My father-in-law was shell-shocked, the revelation tearing through decades of marriage and trust like a knife. Janice’s protests of innocence and manipulation fell on deaf ears as the magnitude of her deception became apparent.
The fallout was cataclysmic. A secret affair, buried for years, came to light, challenging the identity and relationships within Jake’s family. My father-in-law’s departure marked a poignant moment of realization for us all, as we grappled with the implications of a lie that had shaped the very foundation of their family.
A sad older woman | Source: Pexels
In the aftermath, Jake and I were thrust into an emotional maelstrom. What had started as an attempt to defend our family from unjust suspicion had unraveled a tapestry of lies, revealing a betrayal that went far beyond our immediate concerns. We were left to navigate the complex terrain of trust, identity, and familial bonds, forever altered by the truths that had come to light.
As my husband and I stood amidst the wreckage of his family’s legacy, we realized that our journey was far from over. The challenges we faced, though daunting, reinforced our commitment to each other and to Jess. In the face of upheaval, we found strength in our unity, a testament to the enduring power of love and the resilience of family.
This revelation, while painful, marked the beginning of a new chapter for us. One where the definitions of family, loyalty, and love were rewritten in the context of honesty and acceptance. Amidst the chaos, our dedication to each other remained a guiding light, leading us toward healing and a deeper understanding of what it means to belong.
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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