I felt like the air had been knocked out of my lungs.
My ex-wife stood in the dimly lit hallway, arms crossed, her expression cold and unreadable.
“You will never see her again,” she repeated, her voice flat.
My heart pounded. “What the hell are you talking about, Melissa? Where is she?”
Her new husband stepped forward, looking pale. “Just leave. Please.”
“No.” I shoved past him, storming deeper into the house. **I knew this house. I knew where my daughter’s room was.**
I ran down the hall and pushed open the door—
**Empty.**
No toys. No bed. **No sign that my daughter had ever lived here.**
I turned back, rage boiling inside me. “Where is my daughter?!”
Melissa tilted her head, her lips curling into a smirk.
“She’s gone,” she said simply. “And you’ll never find her.”
Something inside me snapped. I lunged forward, grabbing her by the shoulders. “What did you do? WHERE IS SHE?”
Her husband pulled me off, shaking. “Stop. You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand!” I roared.
Melissa sighed, looking almost bored. “You want the truth?”
I clenched my fists. “Yes.”
She leaned in close, whispering in my ear.
**“There never was a daughter.”**
I stumbled back, shaking my head. “What—what are you saying? I have pictures! I held her in my arms! I—”
Melissa just smiled.
And that’s when I knew.
**I had been lied to.** Manipulated. **My mind had been twisted into believing something that might not have been real.**
Or worse—something that had been erased.
I felt the world spin around me.
And then Melissa whispered something even more chilling—
**“You should have never come back.”**