I carefully took each item: a dress, her hair ties, her favorite book. I cried, clutching them to my chest, as if it could bring me back to her, even if only for a moment.
Suddenly, a small folded piece of paper fell from one of the books. My heart leaped.
I opened it and recognized my daughter’s handwriting.
On the sheet of paper, it read: “Mom, if you read this, look under the bed urgently and you’ll understand everything.”
I read it several times, my hands trembling. I felt a knot in my chest. What could this possibly mean?
Gathering my strength, I knelt down and looked under the bed… and what I saw there left me in shock.
With trembling hands, I pulled an old bag out from under the bed. Inside were a few things: two notebooks, a small box containing odds and ends, and my daughter’s phone. The same phone my husband had said was “lost.” My heart pounded, overwhelmed by a feeling of sadness.
I turned on my phone; it was still working. The first thing I opened was Messenger. There I found a conversation with her friend.
Excerpts from the conversation
February 15, 10:17 PM
Daughter: I can’t take it anymore.
10:18 PM
Friend: What happened?
10:19 PM
Daughter: Dad yelled at me again. He said if Mom said even one word, he’d make us both regret it…
10:21 PM
Friend: My God, you’re scaring me… Did he hit you?
10:22 PM
Daughter: Yes… it’s not the first time. I have a bruise on my arm. I tell Mom it was at school, but… I’m scared.
10:24 PM
Friend: Have you asked your mom or the police? This is really serious!
10:26 PM
Daughter: He said he’d kill me if I talked. The creator, when he gets angry, it’s scary…
10:28 PM
Friend: But I can’t keep it all to myself…
10:29 PM
Daughter: I’m telling you this because I can’t talk to anyone else. If anything happens to me, remember: it’s him.
Those sentences burned my hands like fire. Each message was etched in my memory. I reread them over and over again, and images came back to me: her frightened look, her withdrawal over the past few months.
Then I understood what I refused to believe: my daughter hadn’t left of her own free will. She had become the victim of the person I considered closest to me.

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