Sharing My Daughter Novels & Stories

“His name and information are on the paperwork Dani gave us. I’ll get him a bracelet and show him where to find the two of you.” “Thank you,” I state, eyes glued on the baby. Alone in the room, I sneak one of her little arms from underneath the pink and blue striped blanket. Her tiny little fingers wrap around my finger, and I feel my heart swell within my chest. I’m dying to show the baby to Calvin, Tyler, and my family. I take my cell phone in my free hand, no longer caring about germs, and carefully snap a picture of our daughter’s precious face. Then, I send it to my mom. I find I missed a text.

I barged into their conversation and the little girl nodded excitedly, as if talking about her father was the most exciting and interesting topic ever. “Yeah, Dad is a newscaster on the daily dosage show on TV. He could report the bad guys to him.” She said sweetly and I gasped, I sniffed so hard and burst out in a fresh bout of tears, while I bent down to kiss the girl’s cheeks. “I don't need your dad's help now, all I need is a phone and a social media app..”I told her and the mother was quick to give me hers. “Use mine, it would reach out faster since I'm an influencer too all thanks to my husband.” She told me, giving me her sleek phone and I wiped my tears, and cut the call on the telep

I rolled my eyes. “Why are you so obsessed with me?” I asked him jokingly. Dylan threw his hands in the air with a scoff. “This is what I get for welcoming you?” he asked. I laughed and told him, "Thank you for the juice.” “What brings you here?” Dylan asked. I pushed my hair backward. “My daughter is here, she literally lives here now and I wanted to see her so bad!” I cooed, smiling. “I hope you know you no longer have only Nana to contend with. These past few days, Dax has made a special time to hang out with her.”

I even squeezed in a call to my ex, just to confirm one thing. This New Year, I gifted my daughter something huge—a wish for her happiness. No need to visit anyone; we were free to do as we pleased. That night, I took her out for dinner, just the two of us. However, as fate would have it, we bumped into my parents and the whole clan of relatives. As I sat in the dining hall with my daughter, sipping on water, Suzy laughed mockingly. "Need us to send over a couple of plates? Just drinking water looks pretty sad."

She had always been the strongest person I knew—so seeing her crumble like this twisted something inside me. I needed to take her mind off the situation. At least for a little while. “Mom…” I pulled back slowly. “There’s something I wanted to tell you.” She sniffed and wiped her cheeks. “What?” I exhaled and rubbed the back of my neck. “I… have a daughter.” She blinked. Then blinked again. “A… what?” “A daughter,” I repeated softly. “Zoey. Her name is Zoey.” Her mouth slowly parted and for a second she forgot she’d been crying. “A granddaughter…?”

He held up his phone and aimed the camera at me. "Everyone, look! This is my daughter. She lives in such a nice apartment all by herself while the rest of us are out here suffering." The live stream comments flooded in. "You're finally streaming again!" "What's going on here? Did they go to their daughter's place?" "You have my support! You should go after your daughter. Better yet, just kill her!" Seemingly riled up by that comment, Dad demanded, "Why? Why do you get to live in such a nice apartment while all our money has disappeared?"

I yelled back, but my voice was shaking. Behind me, my daughter clutched my clothes tightly, her tiny body trembling with fear and shame. "Lying?" Director Lee sneered and gestured at my small, shabby apartment. "Ms. Sanders, don't push your luck. I'm here today to give you a piece of advice. Don’t let us see you near the school again, or..." She paused and shifted her gaze to my daughter, her smile turning icy. "We can’t guarantee that your daughter won’t accidentally fall down the stairs and get hurt."

Clarisse lifted her chin, stuck out her dirty shoe, and planted her hands on her hips as she glared at Maeve. "Not only do you have to kneel and apologize—you have to kneel down and lick my shoes clean! My mom said raising you is like raising a puppy. Puppies lick their owner's shoes. That's only natural!" Before my eyes, my daughter—who had always been proud and obsessed with cleanliness—actually bent her knees and assumed the posture of kneeling down to lick the shoe. "Maeve, don't!" I grabbed her at once and pressed my hands firmly on her shoulders. "Don't be afraid. Mommy is here. You're Mommy's precious girl. Don't believe them. You're not a bastard."

My mind went blank. I didn't have a daughter? That was impossible. My dear Marilyn was so real and so warm. "No! You're lying!" I screamed as I leaped up to my feet. "My daughter's name is Marilyn Lopez. She's six years old, and she loves eating strawberry candy!" Gabriel walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "That's enough, Nat. Don't say anything else," he said, sounding exhausted. My eyes darted between him and Taylor.

"To lose your temper." I looked at my hands. "I won't use her," I said, quietly. "Not even to fight for her. I won't put my daughter in front of a camera. Not for that, not for anything." "Good." Constance's face did not change, but something in her eyes softened. "Then we do this the long way." By the afternoon, the picture had been shared eighty thousand times.