Three-year-old Daisy ran excitedly toward her grandmother, Mary, who had come to pick her up from preschool.
"Grandma! My favorite person! Where's Mommy? Everyone else is already gone!"
"Mommy had to go away for a bit, sweetie, but she'll be back soon."
"Okay!"
Mary brushed away a tear. What could she possibly tell her granddaughter? That her daughter, Tiffany—Daisy's own mother—had run off with a boyfriend, completely forgetting about the little girl? Mary had been horrified when she received the indignant call from the preschool teacher, scolding her for leaving a child behind. From 그날 on, there hadn't been a word from Tiffany.
It was only six months later that Mary received a letter. In it, Tiffany described how well she was doing in the city and promised that once things got even better, she would come get Daisy. She didn't apologize, she didn't make excuses, and she didn't ask how they were doing—nothing. There was no return address.
And so, Daisy grew up with her grandparents. They raised her on their modest retirement income, doing the best they could. Daisy, always cheerful and outgoing, tried her best to help her grandmother and had long since stopped asking when her mother was coming back. She had simply forgotten her.
***
Tiffany reappeared when Daisy turned ten. She arrived dressed in expensive clothes, looking very pleased with herself. Mary could only gasp when she saw her on the doorstep. She went to get her husband, but he refused to see his wayward daughter and demanded Mary tell her to get out of his house.
"Oh, Mom, Dad is being his usual dramatic self," Tiffany said indifferently. "Where's Daisy?"
"At school. She'll be home soon."
"Well, at least pour me some tea. I just got off the train and I'm exhausted. Everything is going great for me," she started, seemingly oblivious to her mother's silence. "I'm married. I live with my husband and his daughter; she's the same age as Daisy. Now, don't think I didn't want to bring Daisy to live with us, but my husband was against it. And what can I do? He pays for everything. I don't contribute a cent. How could I bring a 'charity case' into his house?"
"So, your own daughter is a 'charity case,' but his isn't?"
"Well, of course it's different. Mom, you just don't understand that lifestyle. Chloe, my husband's daughter, doesn't have a single free minute. Clubs, private school, tutors. She already speaks two languages, can you imagine?"
"You'd be better off being that proud of your own daughter."
"What's there to be proud of? She's ordinary. No special talents. She probably took after that deadbeat father of hers. She honestly doesn't even compare to Chloe."
"You have no shame, Tiffany," Mary began, but then she heard a slight rustle at the door and turned around.
Daisy was standing in the doorway. She stared wide-eyed at the polished, well-dressed woman, unable to believe this was her mother. She had heard those last words, and she understood their meaning perfectly.
"Sweetie, look how much you've grown!" Tiffany looked at Daisy and stood up to hug her, but the girl spun around and bolted. She spent the rest of the evening by the river, throwing stones into the water.
That's where her grandmother found her. Mary walked up quietly, sat down beside her, and hugged the girl with a heavy sigh. They sat in silence for a long time before Mary finally spoke.
"Let's go home, honey. I need to get dinner started."
"I'm not going back as long as she's there."
"She's gone..." the old woman sighed again. "She said not to expect her back."
"Then let's go. Grandma, I'm so hungry."
***
Year after year passed. Daisy was in a hurry to grow up so she could help and take care of her grandparents. But she wasn't fast enough. Her grandfather passed away first.
Mary and Daisy stood by his grave, weeping and holding each other; their return to the empty house was bitter. Two years later, Mary was gone as well.
Seventeen-year-old Daisy sobbed into her pillow, but Mary could no longer come to comfort her. Daisy would never again hear that gentle voice or feel the soft touch of those warm hands.
The neighbors helped the grieving girl with the funeral arrangements. Tiffany never showed up—she didn't come to say goodbye to her father or her mother.
***
A year went by. Daisy locked up the little house she had inherited, asked the neighbors to keep an eye on it, and moved to the city to attend a vocational college.
Daisy studied hard, majoring in culinary arts and hoping that one day she could make something of herself. She needed to. Daisy was the poorest of all the students. She wore old, heavily worn clothes that her grandmother had bought her years ago. She was often hungry because she simply couldn't afford food. One day, while crossing the street, she fainted and collapsed right in front of a car.
A young woman jumped out of the car, looking terrified. She checked on Daisy, helped her up, and sat her in the passenger seat.
"You scared the life out of me! I thought I'd hit you. Are you sick?"
"No, I'm fine." The darkness in Daisy's eyes cleared, and she saw the kind face of a girl her own age.
"My name is Chloe. We're going to my place right now to get you cleaned up. I don't like the look of you at all."
"No, really, it's okay."
"Don't argue. I'm a pre-med student, after all."
Ten minutes later, Chloe and Daisy pulled up to a large house. A smiling woman came out to meet them, looking strangely familiar to Daisy.
"Chloe, what took you so long? Lunch has been ready for ages. Your father is waiting, let's go."
The woman didn't pay any attention to Daisy. She looked far too pathetic to notice.
"Coming, Mom," Chloe replied, leading her guest inside after the woman.
They entered a beautifully decorated dining room where a graying man sat at a set table. At the sight of a stranger, he stood up and politely invited her to join them.
Chloe explained her unusual meeting with Daisy. Dr. Miller shook his head, correctly guessing that the girl was simply malnourished. Her extreme thinness and the shadows under her eyes told the story clearly.
Just then, Chloe's mother came in and began serving the food. Daisy ate with her eyes downcast, but no matter how hard she tried not to rush, she couldn't help herself. She finished her plate much faster than the others.
"Tiffany, please offer our guest seconds."
Daisy felt like she'd been hit by an electric shock. Tiffany! That was it! This was her mother! Only now did she truly recognize her. Taking the plate, she said softly:
"Thank you, Mother."
Tiffany dropped the water pitcher. It hit the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces.
The woman turned deathly pale. She stared at the girl sitting before her and whispered through trembling lips:
"Daisy? You're... Daisy?!"
Dr. Miller stood up. "Tiffany? What's going on? How can this girl be your daughter? You told me she died a long time ago, when she was a child..."
"No, Dr. Miller, as you can see, I'm very much alive. And it's all thanks to my grandparents. They're the ones who raised me. I won't bother telling you what our life was like."
"You don't have to, young lady," Dr. Miller said. "I can see it for myself. Tiffany, let's go have a talk. You girls stay here and chat."
***
"How could you lie to me all these years, Tiffany? What kind of mother abandons her own child? What kind of woman are you?! You are absolutely despicable! Look at your daughter! You're the reason she's in this state!"
Tiffany cried without saying a word. But her tears weren't for the abandoned girl; they were for herself. She knew that her kind, honorable husband would never forgive her for what she had done.
Tiffany had been so desperate to build a life for herself, so eager to enjoy the finer things, that she never looked back at the little girl she left in the countryside. She had originally moved to the city with her boyfriend, but after a chance meeting with Dr. Miller, she realized he was her ticket to happiness.
At the time, he was a widower with a young daughter, grieving deeply for his late wife. Tiffany came into his life as a nanny, quickly winning the trust and love of little Chloe, and through her, she won over the doctor himself.
That was when she told him she had suffered a similar tragedy—that she had lost a young daughter.
"You see, David, she died right in my arms. She had a weak heart. You can't imagine how I grieved, how I cried over her grave. It wasn't until I met Chloe that I realized I could give all that love and care to her, just like my own daughter."
And David had believed her. He pitied her, took her into his home, and let her into his heart. Because of that, Tiffany had lived a life of luxury for years. Chloe didn't give her much trouble; always busy with various activities, Chloe only appeared at home in the evenings with her father, the medical professor.
As Chloe grew up, she started her pre-med courses. David was always busy, leaving Tiffany to her own devices.
She didn't love Chloe, of course, but she tolerated her, offering smiles and affection because the girl was the guarantor of her own comfort. David was older than Tiffany, and she was secretly waiting for the day Chloe would get married and move out, and her husband, with his declining health, wouldn't last much longer. Then, Tiffany would finally be free.
Meeting her biological daughter had not been part of the plan. Tiffany couldn't hide her tears of frustration, but David snapped at her again, demanding she go out and talk to Daisy and offer her a place to stay.
When they returned to the living room, they found Chloe sitting sadly at the table, tracing patterns in her plate with a spoon.
"Where is Daisy?" David asked.
"She left, Dad. She said thank you for everything and just walked out. She said she didn't want to get in the way of her mother's happiness and wasn't going to ask for anything. She said she'd lived without her for this long and she'd keep on living."
Tiffany swallowed the heavy lump in her throat and looked guiltily at her husband. David turned away from her and went into his study, slamming the door behind him.
***
Daisy returned to her dorm and started packing her things to go back to her home village, intending never to return to the city.
Seven years passed. Daisy was working in a school cafeteria, having finished her degree through correspondence. She was married to a local farm manager and was raising a little daughter, whom she had named Mary, after her grandmother.
They didn't have much money, but they were happy. Her husband, Peter, was kind and attentive; he loved both his wife and daughter, always trying to do something special for them, and they loved him in return.
One evening, there was a knock at the door. Peter opened it to find a woman who looked like a beggar on the porch. She looked at him and asked if her daughter, Daisy, lived there.
Peter knew everything about his wife's past. He silently stepped aside, letting the woman into the house. Suddenly, Tiffany froze. Running toward her was her own little girl—not the grown woman, but the toddler, exactly as she had left her all those years ago. The child looked at the strange woman with huge eyes, smiled, and climbed into her father's arms. Peter turned to little Mary:
"Let's go, honey. Help me with the chores outside," he said, and they walked out together. Tiffany watched them go, then heard Daisy's voice:
"Well, hello, Mother. A bit late to be remembering me, isn't it?"
"Forgive me, Daisy," Tiffany said, speaking sincerely for the first time in her life. "I came to ask for your forgiveness. As you can see, life has punished me enough. Chloe got married and moved to Hungary, and she took her father with her. They sold the house, and I got nothing. I've been drifting between apartments for years, and I finally just couldn't take it anymore. Can we live together? I could help you raise your daughter."
"No, I don't want that. I'll set the table for dinner and feed you, just like you once fed me, and then I'll call you a taxi. You're still young, Mother. You can still build a life for yourself."
"I don't have money for a taxi. And I have nowhere to go."
"Don't worry, I'll give you the money. But I don't want to see you here again. You'll have an easier time finding work in the city."
"Have you lost your mind? I don't know how to do anything."
"I'm sorry, Mother, but I won't change my mind. And honestly, I stopped thinking of you as a mother a long time ago."
Half an hour later, Tiffany left. Six months after that, Daisy took her daughter to the local clinic for a routine vaccination. There, she saw Tiffany—the woman was mopping the floor in the hallway.
Daisy's heart wrenched. She took a step toward her mother, wanting to make peace, to tell her she had finally forgiven her. But Tiffany looked at her daughter with such pure venom that Daisy froze in her tracks.
The mother picked up her bucket and mop and walked away, never looking back at the one person she was supposed to love her whole life.
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