Daughter Stolen at Birth Reunites with Dad 34 Years Later, Learns He’s in Huge Trouble – Story of the Day

When Marissa discovered the truth about her birth parents, she was shocked and excited to meet them. But only her birth father was at the coffee shop they had agreed upon, and he told her the craziest story. Only a few minutes later, the cops arrived.

Most people rave about the wonders of parenthood, but the truth is that not everyone is ready for it. Some should never have been allowed near children. That's how Marissa felt most of her life, being raised by the two worst people in the world.

To be fair, her parents, Katherine and Walter, seemed to hate everyone, so she wasn't always the focus. The only issue was that she lived with them and couldn't do anything about their terror. She tried for many years to say something to teachers and counselors at school, but they all scoffed at her.

"Marissa, your life is not like Cinderella," one teacher, Mr. Carter, chuckled when she tried to explain what was happening at home. "At some point, everyone has to grow up and stop believing in fairy tales."

The high school counselor didn't precisely scoff at her, but she tried to appease her. "Honey, all kids have chores at home. Some parents are stricter than others, but that's part of life. They want you to be independent and learn responsibility."

Marissa didn't believe other kids were washing their parents' underwear with her bare hands. At first, she would just do the laundry, but the washing machine broke down once, and Walter flew into a rage that ended with her bloody and bruised, crying while trying to rinse all the clothes inside.

She had to do laundry every week, but she also cooked and cleaned daily for them. In many ways, she felt like an indentured slave in their home. At 15, her mother told her she would need to get a job to help with the household bills.

Although it was more work for Marissa, she loved it. Her part-time gig at a fast food joint was perfect. Most of her paycheck went to her ogre parents, but she kept some and enjoyed being around other people.

The kids at school didn't understand her struggles, but some of the employees at the burger place did. They also had hard lives, and one gave her some sound advice. She saved everything possible and was out of the house as soon as the clock turned 12 on her 18th birthday.

For years, she lamented her childhood, especially in college, when she made her first real friend, Olive, who invited her home every Thanksgiving. Her mother was like warm apple pie, and her father, although gruff, was a sweetheart. They also loved each other and hugged and kissed often.

Seeing them felt strange. Marissa couldn't figure out why her parents acted the way they did all their lives when they weren't addicts or gamblers like some of her fast food joint coworkers had said. They could've been an average family, except they hated her.

Why did they have me if they didn't want me? Marissa wondered most of her life, but it was a futile question. She would never have an answer because she had cut contact completely after leaving, and they hadn't reached out either.

So, aside from Olive, she had no one else in the world.

"Maybe you do," her friend said after Marissa finally told her about her childhood.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you have family," Olive continued. "You may have aunts, uncles, cousins, and more. If your parents hated the world, they probably cut off anyone to isolate themselves."

Marissa frowned, thinking that through. "I guess that's possible. But how would I find them? I would NEVER call my parents for information."

"Of course not!" Olive laughed, appalled. She shrugged then. "What about a DNA test?"

"Oh, the ones everyone is doing now?" Marissa chuckled. "I'm convinced that's for some sort of government database."

Olive rolled her eyes. "Who knows? But I've heard stories of people finding long-lost siblings and more through those things."

Marissa looked at her friend, pursing her lips. "It's not a bad idea," she shrugged. "But they're probably expensive, right?"

Olive twisted her own mouth. "Marissa, you've been working non-stop since you were 18. We've been roommates since sophomore year, and I've never seen you splurge on anything. I know you have more than enough savings for this," her friend said seriously but winked after a few seconds. "Come on. Have a little fun."

"Fine. Let's do it," she said, and Olive jumped in delight.

***

"This isn't possible," Marissa shook her head, squinting at her laptop.

Olive was just as flabbergasted but told her to click here and there and everywhere else. They both stared at the DNA ancestry website where Marissa had entered her login information once the results were up.

However, what showed up was more than a little confusing. It was impossible. "It can't be," she whispered, still shaking her head.

"Let's call the company," Olive suggested and grabbed her phone to search for the customer support phone number. She handed her phone to Marissa once she reached an operator.

"Hello, my name is Marissa…" she gave all her details and explained the situation.

The results of her DNA ancestry revealed several things about her heritage. She was mainly from East Europe with a little Asian mix, which was rare. That was exciting. However, the database had also linked her to two people.

"Ma'am, you don't understand," Marissa told the customer support operator. "I have parents. They're my biological parents. They would've never adopted a child. So, I can't be adopted. The people on here can't be my birth parents."

"Miss Taylor, the results of our tests are accurate," the operator said with a condescending voice. "Tons of people have found their real family members through us. I suggest you see if those people have posted their numbers and want to be contacted. You may be able to get answers."

Marissa sighed. "Fine. Thank you," she said and hung up, staring at Olive. "She says they're accurate results, and I should call them if their numbers are on the database."

Olive had one hand rubbing her cheek in deep thought. "What if this is the answer? The reasons your parents treated you so poorly?"

"It doesn't make sense. They would've had to adopt me. Wouldn't that mean they wanted me?" Marissa countered.

"Maybe not. Either way, we're calling these people," Olive said, grabbing Marissa's laptop to click on things herself. "Let's see, their names are Barbara and Julian. Their last names are Milton. Look! Here's their phone number, and it says they're open to contact from anyone with a familial relationship."

"Olive, I don't know," Marissa hesitated. "This feels like we're about to open the biggest can of worms in the world. Pandora's Box and whatnot."

"Marissa," her friend turned and grabbed her shoulders. "And what if this is it? And you get to have a real family? Parents who love you. I know you try to make do with my family, but I always see the pain in your eyes."

Marissa's eyes filled with unshed tears.

"It could still mean nothing, so you would just move on with your life. But if you don't contact them, you'll always wonder," Olive insisted.

"OK," she breathed. "I'm calling them."

Taking a deep breath, Marissa marked each number on the phone and pressed send. Each dial tone made her flinch internally, but Olive offered support beside her. She could do this. No matter what, she wasn't alone anymore. And maybe she didn't have to be in the future…

"Hello?" a warm, beautiful voice answered, and Marissa realized her hopes were high.

What if they were wrong? What if the database was wrong? That would crush her now.

She cleared her throat quickly and began speaking, "Hello. Is this Mrs. Milton?"

"Yes?" the woman answered curiously.

"My name is Marissa," she continued. "I'm calling because I saw your name on the database of this DNA ancestry thing—"

"And?" Barbara interrupted in a high-pitched tone, making Marissa hesitate.

"Uhm, well, I think I might be your daughter," she revealed, releasing a huge breath.

There was complete silence for a few seconds, but a delighted scream echoed through the line.

"JESUS CHRIST! Thank you so much!" Barbara yelled away from her phone, but it was heard clearly. "Julian! Julian! Come here!"

"Hello?" Marissa asked, unexpectedly pleased by the reaction.

"Yes? Dear? You said your name was Marissa?" Barbara asked, and suddenly, a male voice was in the background. "Honey, recheck the database. It's happened! Finally! After all these years!"

Marissa was still shocked. "Uhm, so this isn't a surprise for you?" she began carefully.

"Yes, it is, dear," Barbara replied quickly. "It's just the kind of surprise we've been hoping for since this ancestry stuff came out! We've been looking for you for 34 years!"

"You've been looking for me?" Marissa asked, her eyes widening as Olive got teary-eyed.

"Yes. Oh, thank God!" Barbara continued, her voice thick now. "We've just gotten on the internet and saw your name. It wasn't there before! Oh my God. This is wonderful! You're our baby!"

Olive mouthed, "Ask her to explain."

"I'm sorry. I really don't understand what's going on," Marissa began, swallowing. "I was raised by two people who I always thought were my parents. I never had any doubt, and they certainly never told me. This was a complete surprise. I even called the company, and they said it's accurate."

"Oh, dear," Barbara got a bit quiet. "Well, it's a hard story to tell, and I don't want to give all the details on the phone. But my darling, you were stolen from the baby ward the day you were born. We've been looking and looking like crazy for you all these years. Julian, say hi to your daughter."

"Hello," a man said timidly.

"Hello...Uhmm...Mr. Milton," Marissa said awkwardly as she was still processing Barbara's information. Olive's jaw was on the floor. "So, I wasn't given up?"

"No! Dear, of course not! We wanted you so bad. We loved you so bad," the older woman stuttered for a second. "We did everything possible to find you, but the cameras weren't great. Security wasn't so tight, and most hospitals still used paper records back then. The police couldn't track how, why, or where the criminals had gone. Worst of all, they told us this wasn't uncommon."

"Wow," Marissa breathed, rubbing the sweat from her face.

"But I have so much to tell you. Where do you live? Can we meet?" Barbara asked hopefully. Marissa answered, shocked to learn that her real parents were only two hours away. They made plans to meet two days later at a local coffee shop.

***

"Are you coming with me?" Marissa asked Olive two days later.

"I want to, but you have to do this on your own. Keep your phone close. Stay in public, and call me if you need anything," her friend answered, shaking her head. Then, she opened her arms wide and hugged Marissa tightly. "You can do this."

So, Marissa grabbed her car and drove two hours away. She saw a small, picturesque American town and wondered what it would've been like to grow up there with actual loving parents. She found the coffee shop quickly, parked, and went inside to wait with her heart on her sleeve.

"Marissa?" an older man called her attention ten minutes later, and although he had never seen him in real life, Marissa had stared into those eyes in the mirror forever.

"Julian? Mr. Milton? I mean, Dad? Father? Sir?" she hesitated, not knowing what to call him. She also had no idea if she should hug him, but the man took a seat at the table quickly. It was hard to tell, as she didn't know him well, but he looked agitated for some reason.

"That's me. I guess I'm your birth father," Julian nodded quickly. His body was moving oddly, as if he was tapping his foot under the table.

"Yeah. Apparently, I'm your birth daughter," she nodded, smiling hesitantly. "I have so many questions still. But where is Mom? Or Barbara? Mrs. Milton?"

Instead of answering, Julian grabbed her hand a little too tightly. "Listen, I don't have much time," he hesitated, looking around anxiously. "Please, you have to forgive me. You have to tell Barbara that's all in the past, and we can move on from that."

"Excuse me?" Marissa said, trying to pull her hand back, but his hold was too rough. "Forgive what?"

Julian let go of her hands too swiftly, as if they burned him. "Are you stupid?" he asked, gesturing wildly and shaking his head. "How could you call my wife? You weren't alone. You were raised by parents. This is preposterous."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied, her mouth agape. "And to say parents raised me is a bit of a stretch."

"You weren't stolen, child," he confessed, exasperated. "You were sold. I sold you while my wife was unconscious. I didn't want to be a father, but she got pregnant. The birth almost killed her, and she still loved you."

He said "you" as if it was a dirty word.

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't pretend anymore, so I found some people and made some deals. One nurse was willing enough to take money to arrange everything. Off you went! It was better this way. We didn't have to worry anymore," Julian shrugged as if he wasn't confessing to a colossal crime.

Marissa's eyes were bulging, and one hand reached almost automatically to her phone. Her instincts were ringing. This man didn't look overtly violent or aggressive but was dangerous. There was no doubt. He sold his child and didn't have any qualms about confessing.

"I had debts to pay for that stupid hospital, so I used the money from the sale to do it," Julian continued, looking to the side almost as if he wasn't having a conversation with her. "But then Barbara caused a scene, demanded an investigation, turned it into a whole mess."

He shook his head, sighing. "We could've enjoyed the settlement money, but no. She put everything into the investigation. I spent years sweating, wondering when the police would finally figure it out. HA! They didn't," Julian laughed.

Marissa closed her eyes in pain, her hopes dashed already. For once, she had a chance at a normal, loving family, but her birth father turned out to be even worse than Katherine and Walter. Who would've thought? she asked herself, scoffing internally.

"Barbara calmed down after ten years. She lost all hope. I could finally breathe. For two decades, we were fine," he continued, not paying attention to the pain that must have been reflected clearly on Marissa's face. "I told her I didn't want other children because I was in 'pain.' And it worked. Our lives were great!"

His face turned dark, and his words started coming out in spats. "Two years ago, she found this article, a paid advertisement for sure, about a man who found his birth parents through ancestry information," Julian started.

Marissa had the wry thought that he must have held on to this secret so tightly, so thoroughly, that now that the dam was open, it couldn't be stopped. He was word-vomiting.

"I was afraid for a second until the lady on the phone said that we would only be able to find a child if the child bought the kit, too. So, the chances were low," he continued, chuckling. "I relaxed. I read that several companies do the same too. So, the chances got even lower. Then, you…"

There's that disdain, she thought.

"You called, and she was…delighted. She changed clothes a million times, and I sweated through my pants," Julian continued. "I told her all this this morning, hoping to stop her from coming here."

Marissa's heart skipped a beat. Was her new-found birth mom going to reject her, too?

"And she called the police!" Julian exclaimed, hitting the table with his fist. "I couldn't believe it. ON ME!"

A breath she didn't know she was holding came out unexpectedly. Barbara wanted her.

"So, when she comes here, you have to tell her that the past is past. Let's move on," Julian stared into her eyes. "You had great parents, and now, we'll just be acquaintances. We meet this one time and go our separate ways."

"Do you have any idea what it was like for me?" Marissa asked her voice low and deadly calm.

"Huh?"

"I didn't have great parents," she continued, her lip curling at the sight of his confused face. "I had jailers, force-laborers…in fact, they were slavers. That's why they bought me. I get it now. I was bought to be their free labor."

"That's not my fault. I didn't know that," Julian started, pointing a finger at her.

"I can't believe this," she added, her eyes darting around as if the coffee shop décor would have a solution.

"LOOK AT ME!" Julian screamed, calling the attention of other clients. His emotions were more than erratic. He was begging one second and yelling the next. "You have to get her off my back! If you do, I'll be your father then!"

Marissa scoffed loudly. "I don't want you to be anything to me, and I won't say anything to your wife. You deserve whatever is coming for you. I won't move a finger in your defense. I'm tired! I'm not an object. You had no right to sell me, so you have no right to ask me for anything," her voice got louder, but it also broke as the heartbreak intensified. "All I wanted was a loving family like everyone else had around me. I HAD NOTHING!"

"Marissa," Julian muttered, his mouth puckered in displeasure. He didn't care or want to hear this, but he was going to.

"I'm tired of people thinking they can just walk all over me," Marissa continued, sniffing to put the emotions away for a second. Her eyes widened, making her look deranged as she leaned toward her birth father. "I will watch and laugh at whatever Barbara does to you."

Just then, a commotion at the door called their attention. Marissa's slow smile colored her face in pure devilish pleasure as a woman was followed into the coffee shop surrounded by cops. It must be Barbara, although Marissa could almost confuse her for an angel of vengeance.

Katherine and Walter hadn't been religious, so she knew little about God, the Bible, the Torah, the Koran, or anything else. But she went to college, and one course mentioned the Book of Enoch, which talks about angels and demons. One angel was in charge of justice and vengeance.

"Enoch 20:4. Raguel, one of the holy angels, who inflicts punishment on the world and the luminaries."

She remembered that quote perfectly, thinking that so many people in the world deserved to be punished by a higher being. Her parents, for example, although admittedly, their transgressions were nothing compared to the atrocities of humankind.

Still, the idea made her smile. It was petty and made her feel better, especially because she would never have to see them again. Now, she found another person who deserved angelic — or perhaps demonic — punishment. This time, someone was here to deliver it.

In most of the depictions she remembered from class and online, any angel of justice was depicted with the scales of fairness. Sometimes, the characterizations were feminine, and other times, masculine. But looking at Barbara now, Marissa thought Vengeance was definitely a woman. She didn't have wings, but she had an intense look in her eyes, long hair, and the most beautiful face.

"That's him!" the older woman yelled, mesmerizing Marissa as her birth father stumbled out of the chair to get away from the police.

Julian couldn't. "NO!" he screamed and ran into another customer. "Marissa, tell them to stop! Tell them you're fine!"

"No," Marissa said loudly enough for the other curious patrons to hear.

There was no time for him to run through the back, so the cops caught him, placed handcuffs on him while reading his Miranda rights, and hauled him away. Barbara supervised the exchange with arms crossed.

When the squad car drove off, her shoulders sagged. Marissa stood, thinking the older woman was about to faint. But Barbara looked into her eyes, and the tears rushed out as easy as turning on a faucet. But soon, she was sobbing, coughing, and blubbering words Marissa couldn't really understand.

So, she took Barbara to her table, gave her some napkins, and waited. "Don't speak yet," she said softly. "Get it out."

The intense sobs eased after a while, and Barbara blew her nose loudly on her napkins before speaking to her daughter for the first time. "I take it he told you?" she asked, looking down.

Marissa saw the shame in her facial expression. "He told me, but by the sounds of it, none of it was your fault," she began. The emotions she had contained with that vile man surfaced once more, but she didn't want to ugly cry on her first meeting.

"Oh, dear," Barbara breathed, clutching her chest. "How can I ever… what kind of mother…," the older woman couldn't form a sentence. She kept shaking her head. But Marissa placed a hand over hers, and something clicked between them.

"Take your time," she told her birth mother.

"I don't know what to say. How to apologize to you for all this," Barbara said carefully. "This scene was supposed to be the reunion I wished for 34 years. I never imagined it was all his doing. That he would destroy my life like this."

"You never know what people will do," Marissa muttered. "You never know how black their hearts or their intentions are."

"Oh, dear. I just hope you've never experienced something like this before," Barbara continued. "I see how beautiful, well-dressed, and amazing you look. So, your life must have been good. Right?"

Marissa looked at the hope in her face and almost lied. But she couldn't. No more lies. Ever. "Oh, Mrs. Milton," she sighed.

"Barbara, please," the older woman countered. "You can call me Barbara until you feel comfortable enough to call me Mom."

"Alright," Marissa replied, smiling slightly. "My life wasn't good at all. Well, my childhood. My adulthood has been better."

Barbara's eyes closed as her face turned down. "Oh, dear. No."

"It's OK. We're here now. We'll have to figure some things out…," Marissa trailed off, wiping an errant tear away.

"Would you like to have a drink with me? Something stronger than coffee?" Barbara asked out of the blue.

Marissa let out a gust of air and started chuckling. "I'm so glad you asked," she responded, smiling. They stood immediately and crossed the street to the bar.

***

"I haven't drank like this since I was in college," Barbara gushed, taking her latest Cosmopolitan from the waiter with a grateful smile.

"I didn't drink at all when I was at college," Marissa commented, smiling. "I think I may have missed out."

"You did!" Barbara said after swallowing half her drink. But she coughed delicately, and her expressions sobered. "But then again, I get it. After what you've told me about your life, you wanted to turn things around."

"Yeap," Marissa nodded and downed the latest of her drink. She had already told Barbara a little about bit her childhood with her parents — or should she say the people who bought her.

The older woman had also explained more about the past or what she thought happened. Barbara was told the baby had been stolen only a day after birth. She had been recovering from a harrowing birth, and her birth father, Julian, had been with her. No one saw what happened, and the security cameras at the time had been not focused on the maternity ward. Just outside and in the parking lot.

A considerable investigation occurred, but nothing came of it, except for the hospital adopting harsher security protocols to prevent anything from happening. The hospital also gave Julian and Barbara a huge settlement to keep them from suing, which they used to try to find their child. But they never did.

After that, Julian was so overcome that he didn't want any more children.

"We never stopped looking, even when everyone told us to move on," Barbara continued, sipping her cocktail. "A few years ago, I read articles about families finding each other through these DNA kits, and I assigned us up. Nothing came up then, but I hoped it would one day."

Marissa told her what it was like growing up and how she had to do everything at home since she could remember. Her motor skills had barely developed when her parents demanded to be catered to. It only got worse as she grew.

Barbara put down her empty glass almost too roughly on the bar and looked at her daughter. "What I don't understand is how two people decide to buy a child and then not love it. What's the point?"

"I was thinking that when Mr. Milton confessed the truth," Marissa began, clearing her throat. "I think they wanted someone to keep the house."

Barbara gasped quietly. "You mean… like a maid?"

Marissa shrugged. "Honestly, I feel really like Cinderella now. One teacher actually said that to me once when I tried to tell him how hard my life was at home. He told me fairy tales weren't real and didn't help me. No one helped, so I had to run away."

"They probably also filed for help from the government or got decent tax returns for having a child," Barbara added. "Marissa, I don't know if you'll agree with this, but my husband is not the only one at fault for this. I want to report those people, too. Buying a child should be illegal, right?"

"I have no problem with that, Barbara," Marissa said. "You can do anything you want. I never cared about them. I'm sure they're still at the same house, being the same ogres as always. So, I'll give you their address. Anything."

"Thank you, dear," Barbara said, nodding pensively. After a second, she sighed, but it was a broken sound. Their time at the bar had been full of laughter, nostalgia, tears, sobbing, and finally, laughter again.

Marissa thought they were done with the emotions, but Barbara was shaking her head and looking at her lap in shame. She couldn't let the woman keep castigating herself.

"Hey, Barbara," she said softly. "Whatever happens now, I'm so glad I finally met you."

The older woman looked up with shining, tearful eyes and chuckled painfully. "Oh, dear. You have no idea."

***

They were at the bar until they both felt tired. Neither could drive, so they went to a local hotel near the bar and booked two rooms. The following day, they made arrangements to meet again.

Marissa invited Barbara to her town so she could show her around, introduce her to Olive, and more.

Her best friend was shocked by the revelation and started pacing their apartment. "This is so weird," she said, scratching her chin. "But your mother is right. Katherine and Walter can't get away with this. Suppose they do it again."

"Oh my God," Marissa whispered, her eyes widening. "What if they did it already? As soon as I left?"

Olive's own eyes bulged at the thought, so they called the police. Unfortunately, no one had any good news for them.

Barbara called her a few days after their first meeting, crying because Julian wouldn't be charged with anything. Marissa put her on speakerphone so Olive could hear.

"Honey, the detective told me that while selling children is illegal, Julian's case wouldn't make it to trial or anything else," the older woman lamented. "They let him go after he confessed everything. He even gave them your parents' name."

"Why won't it go to trial?" Olive demanded, outraged.

"Because it's been 34 years. They said the statute of limitations has passed," Barbara continued.

"That's not fair," Marissa sighed. "They're gonna get away with ruining our lives?"

"No, they won't!" Olive said, determined, and began to pace again. It was her habit.

"I'm calling a lawyer. Maybe there's something else we can do," the older woman continued.

"Mrs. Milton," Olive interrupted, getting close to the phone again. "Why don't you come down here? Stay with us for a while. We have an extra room. We can get a lawyer here and discuss the options. You should both be together for whatever happens."

"That's not a bad idea," Marissa agreed.

"Are you sure you want an old lady in your house? I don't want to cramp your style," Barbara countered, chuckling. The mood lightened immediately as Marissa and Olive joined the laughter.

"Please. At this point, people think we're a lesbian couple," Marissa joked, and Olive nudged her.

"Oh, well. Maybe life would have been easier if I had a wife instead of my criminal husband," Barbara commented and stopped, surprised by her thought. But Marissa and Olive burst into fits, and the older woman reluctantly laughed.

She agreed to come down and stay with them for some time.

They met a lawyer who thought they could file a civil suit against Julian, especially because Barbara had been given the report. They thought Katherine and Walter could be parties in the case, too, but the attorney looked at both women with a big frown.

"However, all you'll get from this is maybe some money," the man said thoughtfully. "You'll have to rehash what I imagine is the most painful experience of your life. Sometimes, money is not worth that."

"We should go ahead," Barbara began, but her face turned to Marissa. "Right?"

"I don't know," she shook her head. "I think Mr. Brown is right. What are we really going to get from this? We'll have to see their faces and how little they cared about this. Whether we like it or not, they got away with it."

Olive interrupted them. "Wait, wait, wait. So, that's it? Let them go into the horizon with no consequences?"

"There's not much to do. Money is not worth all this," Marissa squeezed her friend's hand.

"I know, but… it's so not fair," Olive shook her head.

"Again," Mr. Brown added. "We can go ahead, and I think we have a chance to win. And there's another thing. This case could make the press. Draw interest from the public. It could be a media circus."

"Oh, dear," Barbara shook her head. "I don't want that."

"Me neither," Marissa agreed.

Finally, they thanked the lawyer for his time and told him they wouldn't proceed. Olive disagreed, but ultimately, it was Marissa and Barbara's choice. The only motion they were moving forward with was Barbara's divorce.

Despite the bad news, Marissa decided to make the most of her time with Barbara. Olive went home to give them alone time, and the two women went shopping, ate ice cream, took pictures at a photo booth at the mall, and talked about the good things.

Besides working all day and studying at night, college had been alright for Marissa. She didn't have much time for boys, which her mother lamented. Barbara had fantastic stories about dating in her college years.

She had been in a sorority and went wild. "I always wanted my daughter to follow in my footsteps and join Sigma Beta. I would've taught you our songs and more," the older woman said wistfully.

Marissa smiled kindly. She didn't have the heart to tell her mother that sororities were definitely not for her.

"Oh, well," Barbara laughed suddenly. "Maybe my granddaughter will be a Sigma."

"What?" Marissa's soda went right to her nose, and she started coughing. Barbara patted her back until she could breathe again. Then, they both burst out laughing.

They went home, and Olive joined them in the kitchen for Barbara's signature dish: smoked salmon, asparagus, and mashed potatoes. They devoured it whole and then served the pecan pie they bought at a nice place at the mall.

"So," Olive began. "What's the plan?"

"What plan?" Barbara asked, licking her spoon.

"Revenge," she continued.

"Olive," Marissa said, pursing her lips.

"No, Mar," Olive said, frowning at her friend's defeated look. "They can't get away with this. I… they can't. I've seen how much you still suffer. This is so unfair."

Olive started tearing up from her anger.

"Olive," Marissa said again gently. "If you think about it, they didn't get away with this."

"What do you mean?"

"I have my mom here," Marissa said and turned to Barbara, placing her hand on the table side up. The older woman's eyes brightened as she took her hand. "We're together now. I know we missed so much. But I don't want to waste our time with those people."

"Oh, dear," Barbara sniffled. "I don't know how you grew up so well. But I agree, and I'm so grateful we're together now."

Olive nodded, wiping her tears. "You're right. You can't let the past take over your life again. Barbara, you can stay with us as long as you like," her friend said, excusing herself to the bathroom.

"Mom," Marissa began, relishing the word coming out of her mouth. "I love you."

"Oh, dear," Barbara started sobbing openly, but her arms were wide as they took her in and wrapped around her tightly. "My daughter."

Barbara returned to her home two weeks later but hired a real estate agent to find a house close to the girls. She went back and forth, visiting Marissa until the deal closed. Her divorce lawyer advised her to wait a while before putting her current home on the market.

Mother and daughter started seeing each other more often for dinner, outings, and more, trying to make up for all the time missed. Olive sometimes joined them but didn't want to crowd them. Barbara also met Olive's parents and thanked them for treating Marissa so well.

Life was good, except when Barbara's lawyer called to say they couldn't serve Julian with divorce papers because they couldn't locate him. The older woman couldn't have cared any less. She finally placed their house on the market to see if he would show up.

One afternoon, Olive was watching the news, which was odd in Marissa's opinion. But she was too busy cooking and didn't care what was on TV until her friend said, "Mar, come here!"

"What?" Marissa wiped her hands and closed their flat screen. "Wow!"

"That's your house, right?" Olive asked innocently.

Marissa frowned at her friend. "Yeah," she answered. "And those are my… kidnappers? Buyers?"

"I would call them something much more colorful," her friend said, smiling suddenly.

The news segment explained that a home in their town had inexplicably caught fire, and none of the alarms worked. Although neighbors called the fire department, the house couldn't be saved. "The couple fortunately came unscathed…," the reporter finished.

"That's too bad," Olive commented pettily.

"Olive," Marissa chided. "But I can't say I'm unhappy that place is gone. It was my own personal hell."

"I know," Olive added, looking mighty haughty.

"Olive…," Marissa said again, frowning.

"What?" her friend asked innocently. "I think that karma is finally catching up to them."

"Did karma have a little help?" Marissa asked, deadpanned.

Olive chuckled her chest in mock horror. "You believe I did this? Arson is a crime," her friend said.

Marissa looked at her friend, and her lips twitched out of their own accord.

"No, seriously, girl," Olive burst out laughing. "I didn't do this. I wish. I think the universe decided to get them, especially after you two took the high road, choosing to move on and not try to get justice or vengeance against them."

Marissa looked at her friend and felt a little bad she suspected her of this. "Maybe that's true," she began. "You know, when I saw Barbara for the first time, I thought she was this archangel…."

Olive listened to the vision and the memories Marissa experienced when she came with cops to arrest her birth father. She hadn't told her about that in all the hoopla of the aftermath.

"Odd," Olive said. "I mean, it's odd that you would think about that. You're not much for religion."

"I know," she added. "But it just came to me. I thought about something else when we were deciding what to do about my fake parents and Julian. About revenge."

"What?"

"Do not repay evil for evil," Marissa responded. "Romans 12:19. 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay,' says the Lord."

"That's even more surprising," Olive whistled.

"I think it's related to that vision," she continued. "Karma, justice, or vengeance will come for them — like the fire — but not by our hands. By something else. Whoever or whatever is in charge."

"I like that," Olive added, nodding. "Only happiness for us both from now on, my friend! All the negatives are gone for good!"

"Yes, they are," Marissa grinned widely, agreeing wholeheartedly with her friend.

"Although, we definitely should start dating," Olive countered, frowning. "We're in our 30s. If we can find religion, we can find men!"

Marissa laughed so loud that Barbara heard it as she parked outside.

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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about twins who were separated after a house fire and reunited years later at a school reunion.

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