The Bad Daughter

One Year Later

The sharp sunlight made Vivian squint as she stepped out of the prison gates. She instinctively raised a hand to shield her eyes when, out of nowhere, a little girl ran up and wrapped her tiny arms around Vivian's legs, clutching them tightly.

"Mama!" the child cried, her voice ringing with uncontainable joy.

Vivian looked down, stunned. A little girl stood before her, her features strikingly familiar, like a ghost from the past. Her soft curls and deep, expressive eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to someone Vivian knew.

She smiled faintly, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her. "I'm not your mama, love," she said softly.

But the child, undeterred, clung tighter and cried again, "Mama!"

Vivian crouched down, gently brushing the girl's hair away from her face. "Sweetheart, I'm not your mama," she repeated, her voice kinder this time, tinged with curiosity.

The girl didn't answer but instead threw her small arms around Vivian's neck in a tight embrace. Vivian was trying to gently pry her off when a shadow fell over them, and a familiar figure knelt beside her.

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. That calm face, framed by soft hair streaked with gray, and that gentle smile—it was a face she knew all too well.

"Max Stillenski," she whispered, the name slipping from her lips before she could stop it.

Max clutched his chest dramatically, groaning in mock agony. "Oh, the joy of hearing you say my name! It's so overwhelming I might just die right here!"

Before Vivian could respond, Max moved closer, a wide grin lighting up his face. "You still remember me! And like always, I don't even have to reintroduce myself."

"Max, what are you doing here?" Vivian asked, her voice wary but tinged with something else—something she couldn't quite name.

Instead of answering, Max leaned in and wrapped both Vivian and the little girl in a tight hug, ignoring Vivian's protests. "What are you doing? Let go of me!" she demanded, trying to squirm away.

Ava giggled, her voice muffled against Vivian's shoulder. "Daddy, I can't breathe!"

At this, Max finally loosened his grip, laughing. "Well, I guess Daddy better step back now. You've got your mama back, don't you?"

"You don't need you daddy do you?"

The little girl nodded enthusiastically, wrapping her tiny arms around Vivian's neck again. Max and Vivian exchanged a look—his filled with joy, hers a conflicted mix of disbelief, confusion, and something softer she couldn't admit to herself.

The Turning Point

Well… its quite useless to explain how Vivian tried to push Max away, to reject his relentless attempts to draw her back into life. She used all sorts of excuses,

"Max, I'm not the person you think I am. I'm broken. I'm a bad daughter, a criminal, a stain on society. I don't deserve happiness, and I don't want my shadow to darken yours—or Ava's."

But Max didn't give up. He stood by her, unwavering. It wasn't grand gestures or big speeches that turned the tide—it was the truth.

"Vivian," he said one day, his voice steady, "Laura Smith is alive."

Her heart stopped. She stared at him, unblinking, as he explained.

The bullet hadn't killed Laura but had left her severely injured. Her throat and spine had been damaged, rendering her unable to speak and in need of long rehabilitation. Laura wasn't gone—but she wasn't the same, either.

The day Vivian saw Laura in hospital working with different therapists on her walking and then for her speech therapy. For Laura it was her second chance at life and when Vivian reminded her the letter's last line,

"Till next life…In next life I will be your sister"

The very day Laura literally held her hand as a sister…she found her lost piece of life.

Then came the meeting with Sarah Blake. It was Sarah's candid honesty that finally broke through Vivian's walls.

"I'm a bad daughter, Sarah," Vivian admitted, her voice cracking. "I destroyed my family. I ruined lives. I—"

Sarah laughed—a warm, knowing laugh that startled Vivian into silence. "Vivian, do you know what I am? I'm not just a bad daughter. I'm also a bad wife. According to your logic, I should disappear from everyone's lives too, right? Become a ghost? Should I just end it all kill me self??? Commit myself??? because society sees me as a failure??? And because what I did was to the best of my ability in cracking the situations???"

The words struck Vivian like a bolt of lightning, snapping her back to reality. "That's ridiculous," she muttered, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Exactly," Sarah replied gently, placing a hand on Vivian's shoulder. "Your mistakes don't define you. What you do next—that's what matters."

Two Years Later

A crisp breeze danced through the park as Vivian strolled along the path, her hands firmly gripping the handles of a wheelchair. Laura sat in it, her smile warm and serene, her eyes following the playful little girl darting ahead of them.

"Careful, Ava!" Vivian called out, her voice tinged with affection.

The girl laughed, twirling in circles before running back to grab her mother's hand. "Come on, Mama!"

Behind them, Max walked at a leisurely pace, his happiness barely contained. The sight of his family together filled him with an indescribable joy.

From the other direction, a familiar figure appeared. Sarah Blake waved, her smile as bright as the sunshine. She joined them, her steps light, as if she too had found some semblance of peace in this new formed family. Max place his hand over Vivian's shoulder as he and Vivian waved back to Sarah.

There they were—a group of people society had labeled "bad daughters," each of them carrying scars that ran deep. Yet here they were, together, finding their own version of happiness, rewriting their stories, and proving that no one is beyond redemption and protecting what they deemed important to them.

Thank you sooooo much for staying with me till the end...

will come back soon with another exciting story

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