
I entered her bedroom.
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The black bag was inside her wardrobe.
I knew I shouldn’t go through someone else’s belongings.
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But my anxiety was stronger than my hesitation.
I opened the bag.
Inside were children’s dresses, several pairs of shoes, photographs, and a small notebook.
The pictures showed girls between six and ten years old.
On the back of each photograph was a name.
“Lily — 7 years old.”
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“Sophia — 9 years old.”
“Emma — 6 years old.”
Beside the names were numbers written in red ink.
On the first page of the notebook were the words:
“Phase One — Completed.”
On the next page:
“Phase Two — Switch the girls one by one.”
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A cold shiver ran through my body.
Suddenly, I heard the front door opening.
My mother had returned.
I quickly put everything back and left the room.
But I had already made my decision.
The following Thursday, I was going to follow them.
Thursday morning, Clara arrived earlier than usual.
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The two women left the house together. I got into my car and followed them from a distance.
Twenty minutes later, they stopped outside an old building on the outskirts of town. There was no sign on the building.
My mother took the black bag out of the car. Clara looked around nervously.
Then they both went inside. I waited about ten minutes. Suddenly, a white minibus pulled up outside.
Three little girls climbed out, accompanied by two adult women.
One of the girls was crying.
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“I don’t want to change,” she said.
One of the women knelt beside her and explained something. I could no longer sit still. I approached the building.
One of the windows was slightly open. From inside, I heard my aunt’s voice.
“Hurry up! We’ve already prepared the first girl.”
My mother replied:
“Don’t bring the second one in yet. We need to see how she reacts first.”
Then I heard a child crying. I couldn’t take another second. I called the police and explained that I was concerned about the children’s safety.
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Then I entered the building. At the end of the hallway was a large door. I could hear voices coming from inside.
I pushed it open. And froze. Two little girls were standing in the middle of the room. One was wearing a beautiful pink dress.
The other was dressed in old, worn-out clothes. My mother was kneeling in front of them, holding a pair of scissors.
“MOM! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Everyone turned around. My mother was so startled that she put the scissors on the table.
“Margaret! What are you doing here?”
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“YOU TELL ME! WHO ARE THESE CHILDREN?”
At that moment, the little girl in the pink dress began crying. The continuation read in the comments ‼️‼️👇👇
“Please don’t take me away! I haven’t finished yet!”
I knelt in front of her.
“Finished what, sweetheart?”
She pointed toward a small box sitting on the table.
And whispered:
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“My new life.”
I had no idea what to think anymore.
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A few minutes later, the police arrived.
But after speaking with the staff and checking the documents, they confirmed that no child had been abducted or was in danger.
The building was a charity center.