The Truth Of The Accident

The next morning was my birthday.

My first birthday with my uncle and aunt as my parents.

But even that couldn’t lift my spirits.

The memories of past birthdays came rushing back—my real parents’ smiles, their hugs, the way they made everything feel magical.

Now, all of that was gone.

Every passing day felt like walking through fog. I tried to stay strong—because I knew that's what my parents would’ve wanted after saving me. But living happily… required a reason.

And I hadn’t found mine yet.

---

I got ready and went downstairs for breakfast.

“Happy birthday, Samira!” they said in unison.

I smiled as warmly as I could, forcing joy into my eyes, and hugged them both. We sat down to eat. Mom had made sandwiches—my favorite.

While we were eating, Dad suddenly said,

“Samira, I was thinking we should throw a party tonight. You can invite your friends and celebrate!”

Mom nodded excitedly.

I could see they were trying their best. It was, after all, my first birthday with them.

So I agreed, not wanting to disappoint them.

The party was set for 7:00 PM.

After breakfast, I helped Mom with the dishes. She looked at me, smiling, and said,

“My dear Samira, I hope you can always smile like this and be happy.”

Her words warmed me, but also hurt. I wasn’t truly happy—and I wished I could tell her—but I didn’t want to burden her with my pain.

Just then, Dad walked in with our family lawyer.

“Samira,” he said, “this is Uncle Shido. He’s here to meet you.”

Uncle Shido—our family lawyer—had worked with my real father for years. Loyal, trustworthy, and sharp. I remembered him from my childhood.

Today, he was here to read me my father’s will.

---

The will began:

> “Dear Samira,

If you are hearing this, it means I am no longer by your side. But don’t be sad, my little girl. I love you so very much.

Everything I’ve built, everything I’ve achieved in my life—was for you. And now, it all belongs to you.

On your 18th birthday, all of my assets—properties, shares, investments—will be transferred to your name.

I know you’re capable. I’ve seen your strength, your heart, and your intelligence. I believe you will make good decisions.

Always remember, we are never truly gone. Your mother and I live in your memories, in your heart, and in the values we taught you.

And, my love—never blame yourself. You were meant to live. That’s why we saved you.

One last thing, Samira:

No matter what happens, never let hatred enter your heart. And never, ever seek revenge.

Lots of love,

Your Dad.”

---

I didn’t even realize the tears had begun until the paper blurred before my eyes.

He wrote this knowing… something.

Did he sense danger?

His last words echoed in my mind like thunder:

“Never seek revenge.”

“Never let hatred into your heart.”

But why? Why say that unless he knew something terrible might happen?

My thoughts spiraled. Questions pounded in my head. My chest ached with confusion and pain. Mom hugged me tightly, comforting me as I cried. Dad gently asked Uncle Shido to return tomorrow, giving me time to process.

After he left, Mom took me to my room and urged me to rest. I closed my eyes, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

---

By 5 PM, Mom woke me with a gentle voice.

“Samira, darling, time to get ready. The guests will be arriving soon. Let’s make you look like the star of the night.”

I smiled weakly—she was trying so hard to make me happy.

Together, we got ready. The living room was beautifully decorated. Mom had made all my favorite dishes. A huge cake stood in the center, with “Happy Birthday Samira” written in icing and candles shaped like the number 18.

Guests arrived, music played, and friends pulled me onto the dance floor. I danced for a while, laughed even—but it all felt distant. Eventually, I slipped outside to the garden to breathe.

That’s when I saw him.

Uncle James—my father’s close friend—talking to Dad at the entrance. A few moments later, Mom called me inside to greet him.

Uncle James handed me a gift.

“So sorry about Krish and Julia,” he said, “but I’m glad you’re safe.”

I stayed silent. I didn’t know what to say.

Just then, his secretary Tom rushed in and whispered something urgently in his ear. Uncle James’s face changed—his expression tense and frustrated. He stepped outside to talk.

He’d left his phone behind. Mom asked me to take it to him.

As I stepped outside, I heard him… and froze.

He was scolding Tom.

> “How could you mess up so badly? Samira is alive!

Do you realize how much effort went into planning that accident? And now everything’s ruined!

She’s the heir now—Krish must’ve left everything to her!

Your one mistake ruined everything. I’ll have to come up with a new plan.

Don’t do anything on your own again. Wait for my orders!”

My heart stopped.

It wasn’t an accident.

It was planned.

He planned to kill my entire family.

And he nearly succeeded.

A man my father trusted—betrayed him for power and greed.

I backed away silently, returned inside without a word, and set the phone down. A few minutes later, James returned. “Urgent work,” he said, and left.

---

After the party, I went to my room, took a shower, and collapsed onto my bed—haunted by everything I’d just learned.

I wished I had recorded that conversation. But it was too late.

I had no evidence—just the truth burning inside me.

And no power to bring justice.

But maybe... there was a way.

I remembered something.

Dad’s diary.

He used to write in it every night. If it still existed, maybe it held clues.

Without a second thought, I grabbed my car keys. As I was leaving, Mom and Dad stopped me.

“Where are you going so late, Samira?”

“I just need some fresh air. A short drive,” I lied.

---

I reached our old mansion. Seth, our loyal housekeeper, opened the gate.

“Princess!” he said with joy, “It’s so good to see you!”

I asked if anything in the house had been moved.

“No, nothing has been touched,” he assured me.

“I’ll only be here for a little while,” I said. “And please… don’t tell anyone I was here.”

“You have my word,” he said, bowing slightly.

Inside, memories flooded me.

I went straight to Dad’s room and searched everywhere.

No diary.

Only the wardrobe was left. I opened it—and found a locked compartment.

There was a password.

I tried his birthday.

Nothing.

Mom’s?

Still no.

Then I remembered his words:

“I love you, my child.”

I typed in my birthday.

Click.

It opened.

There it was—his diary.

Tears welled up again. He loved me so much, even his password was a reminder of that.

I changed the password—just in case—to the date of the accident. No one would ever guess that.

I took the diary and placed it in my bag, along with a few other personal items to avoid suspicion.

---

Back at home, I had just opened the diary when—

Knock knock.

I quickly hid it.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, dear,” Mom said softly.

I opened the door. She sat beside me on the bed.

“Samira, don’t hide from me. I may not have given birth to you, but I’ve raised you for a year now. I can tell when something’s wrong.

You went to the old mansion, didn’t you? You still miss them.”

I nodded slowly.

“I just went to get a few things… some memories,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

She hugged me tightly.

“You can always rely on me,” she whispered.

I hugged her back.

She smiled and said,

“Tomorrow, college starts again. You’ll be going back to the dorm. I’ll miss you so much. Do you need help packing?”

“I’ve finished already,” I said, forcing a reassuring smile.

She kissed my forehead, tucked me in, and left the room.

Soon, I was asleep.

---

The next day marked the end of vacation.

College was about to begin again.

But this time…

I wasn’t returning as the same Samira.

---

To be continued…

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Next Chapter

"The First Meeting"

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