A Child Called Me Claiming I Am Her Aunt — What She Asked for Made Me Go Pale

It was a typical Thursday afternoon, the kind where nothing remarkable happens. I was nestled in my favorite armchair, a book in hand when my phone rang. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced at the screen. The name that flashed was one I hadn’t seen in years: Phoebe, my estranged sister.

We hadn’t spoken in nearly a decade, a silence filled with unspoken words and unresolved issues. My mind raced, trying to fathom why she would be calling me now. A chill ran down my spine as I imagined the worst.

I accepted the FaceTime call, my breath catching in my throat. But instead of Phoebe’s familiar face, a young girl appeared on the screen. She had big, expressive eyes and a look of urgency that made my stomach churn.

“Hello? Who is this?” I asked, my voice barely steady.

“Are you Daina?” the girl asked, her voice a hurried whisper. “I’m Amani, Phoebe’s daughter.”

My heart skipped a beat. Phoebe had a daughter? Why had she kept her a secret?

“Amani? I…I didn’t know Phoebe had a daughter,” I stammered.

“Mom left her phone in the car while she’s in the gas station. I only have a minute. Please, you have to come…” Amani’s eyes darted around, checking to see if anyone was approaching.

“Wait, what? Where are you? What’s going on?” I asked, my mind racing with questions.

“We live in Pinebrook. Please, come to….” The screen suddenly went black, cutting off her words.

“Amani? Amani!” I shouted at the now dark screen, my heart pounding.

I stared at my phone, a million questions racing through my mind. Phoebe had a daughter? What was so urgent that Amani had risked using her mother’s phone to contact me?

My thoughts swirled in a storm of confusion and fear. I tried to piece together the fragments of information. Amani’s plea had been desperate, her voice filled with hope and terror. The urgency in her eyes was something I couldn’t ignore. Why now? Why after all these years? And why the urgency?

The name Pinebrook echoed in my thoughts. It was a small town on the other side of the state, where Phoebe and I had visited with our parents during summer vacations as kids. It was a quaint town, surrounded by dense forests and nestled near a serene lake. Could it be the same Pinebrook? Why would Phoebe be there?

As I tried to piece it all together, memories of Phoebe flooded my mind. We were inseparable as children, always sharing secrets and dreams. But something changed when we reached adulthood. Phoebe became distant and withdrawn.

The last time I saw her was at our mother’s funeral. She looked haunted as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. After that, she disappeared without a trace, leaving me with more questions than answers.

I recalled a conversation we had when we were teenagers. Phoebe had mentioned a small, secluded town where she’d like to escape someday, away from everyone and everything. Was Pinebrook that place?

I hurriedly packed a bag, tossing in essentials. Grabbing my phone, I quickly looked up directions to Pinebrook. It was a five-hour drive, a journey that felt both daunting and necessary.

As I pulled out of my driveway, the radio played softly in the background, a calming contrast to the storm of thoughts in my head. The miles began to blur together as I drove, each passing town a reminder of the distance between Phoebe and me, both physically and emotionally.

I remembered the last conversation we had, a terse exchange at our mother’s funeral. She had looked at me with sorrow and determination as if she were making a decision that would alter the course of our lives.

“Daina, I have to go,” she said, her voice breaking. “There are things you don’t understand.”

“What things, Phoebe? Why can’t you just talk to me?” I pleaded, but she shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

“I can’t. Not now. Maybe not ever,” she had whispered before turning away.

The memory of that moment haunted me as I drove, each mile bringing me closer to answers I wasn’t sure I was ready to face. As I neared Pinebrook, anxiety settled over me.

The road narrowed as I approached the outskirts of town, the trees closing in around me. I pulled into a small gas station, needing a moment to collect my thoughts.

As I filled up the tank, I glanced around, half expecting to see Phoebe or Amani appear out of nowhere. The anticipation was almost unbearable, each minute stretching into an eternity.

“Are you okay, miss?” the attendant asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.”Yeah, just a bit lost in thought,” I replied, forcing a smile.

“Pinebrook’s a quiet place. Not many visitors,” he said, eyeing me curiously.

“I’m visiting family,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t press for details.

“Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he said, before walking away.

I got back into my car, the final stretch of the journey ahead. The closer I got to the address Amani had mentioned, the more my anxiety grew.

Finally, I saw the house: a small, cozy cabin nestled among the trees. I parked the car and took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever lay ahead. The cabin stood silent, framed by towering pines and the soft glow of the setting sun.

I approached the door, my heart pounding in my chest. As I knocked, the door creaked open, revealing Amani. Her big, expressive eyes looked up at me, a mix of relief and fear etched across her young face.

She hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let me in. “Amani?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“Are you really my aunt Daina?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Yes, I am,” I replied, kneeling down to her level. “Why did you call me? What’s going on?”

Amani glanced over her shoulder, her eyes darting nervously. “Mom doesn’t want us to meet. She says it’s for our safety, but I don’t understand. I just want to know my family.”

I took her small hands in mine, feeling the weight of her words. “It’s okay, Amani. We’ll figure this out together.”

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ve dreamed about meeting you. I don’t know why Mom keeps us away from everyone.”

The sound of footsteps interrupted us. I looked up to see Phoebe standing in the doorway, her face pale with shock and a storm of emotions swirling in her eyes. For a moment, neither of us moved. The years of silence and unanswered questions hung heavy in the air.

“Daina?” Phoebe’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with shock and confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Amani called me,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tumult inside. “She needed help. I came because she asked me to.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened, darting to Amani, who clung to my side. “You shouldn’t have come,” she said, her tone hardening. “It’s not safe.”

“Not safe? Phoebe, what’s going on? Why did you disappear? Why have you kept Amani a secret?” I demanded, taking a step forward. Amani’s grip tightened on my hand. “Mom, please. I just want to know our family.”

Phoebe’s shoulders slumped, the fight seeming to drain out of her. She closed the door behind her, the lock clicking into place with a finality that made my heart ache.

“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice trembling. “I had to protect her.”

“Protect her from what?” I pressed, my anger giving way to concern.

Phoebe sank into a chair, her face buried in her hands. “From our father,” she whispered, the words barely audible. “He… he did terrible things, Daina. After Mom died, he started drinking heavily, and his anger turned violent.”

“One day he came after me. I had to run. I had to keep Amani safe,” Phoebe looked up, her eyes filled with pain and fear.

The revelation hit me like a punch to the gut. “Dad? But… why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t risk it,” Phoebe sobbed. “He threatened to hurt anyone who helped me. I’ve been hiding ever since, trying to keep Amani safe. I’m so sorry, Daina. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

My knees went weak, and I sank to the floor beside her. “Oh, Phoebe. I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want to drag you into it,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I thought if I disappeared, he would leave you alone. I changed my name, moved far away, and kept Amani hidden to protect her from him. I’ve been living in fear all these years, always looking over my shoulder.”

Tears streamed down my face as I knelt beside her. “We could have faced it together. You didn’t have to go through this alone.” Amani wrapped her arms around us both, her small voice breaking the silence. “Can we be a family now?”

Phoebe looked up, her eyes filled with pain and hope. “I don’t know how, but we’ll try. We’ll try to be a family again.”

Phoebe and I sat in silence, the weight of her revelations settling between us. I took her hand, squeezing it gently. “We can’t change the past, but we can face it together,” I said, my voice steady.

Phoebe nodded, her eyes filled with cautious hope. “I want to try. For Amani, for us.” Amani, watching intently, broke into a hopeful smile. “Does this mean we’re going to be a family?” I hugged them both tightly, feeling the strength of our newfound connection. “Yes, Amani. We’re going to be a family.”

Phoebe took a deep breath, wiping her tears away. “It won’t be easy. There’s a lot to work through, a lot to heal.” “We’ll take it one step at a time,” I assured her. “The important thing is, we’ll do it together.”

If you enjoyed this story, here is another one about a little biracial girl who got mocked at school only to meet her biological mother later. Click here to read the full story.

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.