Is The Missing Girls Based On A True Story?

Ten years after my wealthy family took me back, I died in the rental house my billionaire parents had dumped me in. My son was three. Just to mess with me, the kidnapper gave me three chances to call for help. If even one person was willing to come see me, he'd spare my child. The first call was to my father, the man who'd spent fifteen years searching for me. He was busy directing the staff as they set up my adoptive sister's birthday party. When he picked up, he barked, "Estelle Emerson, seriously? Can you go one week without causing a scene? It's your sister's birthday. I'm busy. Don't kill the vibe." The second call was to my mother, the woman who brought me home and changed my name from Dixie to Estelle. But Vera snatched the phone and laughed so hard she could barely get the words out. "Estelle, seriously? If you're gonna make something up, at least make it believable. You look so broke you probably don't even have fifty bucks. What kidnapper would pick you?" The third time, I called Luca's father, my legal husband. He said he was in a meeting and didn't have time to play games with me. He also said that if I behaved myself, he'd agree to take me home for dinner next week. After the final call ended, I looked at the grinning kidnapper in despair and sent the last two messages of my life. A photo of myself covered in blood. And a short message, every word sincere. [I'm really going to die. In my next life, don't bring me home.]

After fifteen years away, I was finally brought back to the DeLuca family. I thought I was returning to my real home. Instead, I walked into a house where the adopted daughter wanted me dead, my father treated me like a burden, and my brothers would rather watch me bleed than make her cry. On my first day back, she set dogs on me. That night, I was dragged to the top of the observatory and forced to apologize to her. When I fell from the tower covered in blood, they still called me a liar. Because in the DeLuca family, I may have been the real daughter by blood— but she was the daughter they loved. She thought she could bully me, poison me, and freeze me to death without consequence. She was wrong. Because the night I nearly died, my mother finally chose me—and turned a gun on the whole DeLuca family.

The night before my wedding, I caught my fiancé, Miguel Sheffield, kissing the Newells' biological daughter in the garden. I stood there with my pregnancy test in hand, my chest hollow. The next day, the wedding went on. Flowers lined the red carpet. Guests lifted their champagne glasses. But the bells rang again and again, and the bride never showed. The daughter the Newells had raised by mistake left only her engagement ring on the vanity. Then she vanished. I moved overseas and raised my child alone. I cut off everyone from my past. Five years later, I came home. And one by one, they walked right back into my life.

When Emma's sister vanishes, she's thrust into a deadly game of cat and mouse. A mysterious figure, hidden behind a mask, demands Emma play a twisted game of puzzles and clues to rescue her sister. With time running out, Emma must use her wits to unravel the mysteries and face the sinister forces behind the game. But as the stakes grow higher, Emma realizes the game is designed to test her limits, and the truth about her sister's disappearance may be more terrifying than she ever imagined. Will Emma solve the puzzles and save her sister, or will she become the game's next victim?

She was a powerhouse—brilliant, driven, and unstoppable—until the day her world shattered in the delivery room. Told her baby had died at birth, she buried her grief beneath ambition and success, building an empire while silently mourning the child she never got to hold. What she never knew was the truth: her husband had betrayed her in the cruelest way imaginable, fleeing with his mistress and the newborn daughter he claimed was lost. Years later, a business expansion leads her to a quiet, close-knit town far from her high-rise life. There, among tree-lined streets and familiar faces, she meets a commanding, magnetic man whose strength matches her own—but whose integrity and warmth begin to crack the walls around her heart. As their connection deepens, unsettling coincidences surface, pulling her toward a past she was never meant to uncover. The revelation is devastating and undeniable: her daughter is alive, growing up in this very town, raised by the husband who abandoned her and the woman who stole her life. Forced to confront betrayal, buried grief, and a motherhood stolen from her, she must decide how far she’s willing to go for the truth—and for her child. In a town where secrets never stay hidden, she faces a choice between vengeance and forgiveness, between the life she built and the love she never knew she could still claim. This is a story of resilience, second chances, and discovering that sometimes, what was lost can still be found.

Rumor had spread through the Vittori family that the daughter they had lost years ago had finally been found. The moment I heard, I left the family branch and rushed back to the main estate. My car had barely stopped when a young woman hurried over and grabbed my hand. “So you’re the Vittori family’s adopted daughter,” she said with a smile that looked painfully sincere. “Your dress is so beautiful. It must cost tens of thousands of dollars. You can tell you’ve never really had to worry about anything before. Unlike me. I grew up in places where even finding my next meal was a problem.” For a second, I didn’t understand what she meant. Then her eyes lowered to the only necklace around her neck. “This is the only thing I have from Mother,” she whispered. “Please don’t hate me for wearing it.” The next second, she suddenly grabbed my hand, dragged it up toward her throat, and yanked hard. The necklace snapped. Pearls scattered across the marble floor. “Why would you do that?” she cried, staring at me in shock. “If you hate seeing Mother’s gift on me, I’ll take it off right now. I won’t stay and make things difficult for you. Just please don’t tell Father and Mother. I don’t want them caught in the middle, and I don’t want this family fighting because of me.” She curled into herself on the marble floor, shaking as she cried, while the guests around us immediately turned to stare. I stood there completely stunned. I had imagined a thousand ways I might meet my daughter again. I never imagined she would look me in the eye, mistake me for someone else, and frame me before I had even spoken. Because I was not Valentina. I was her mother.