After twenty years of being lost, my birth parents found me.
But on the very first day in their luxurious home, the housekeeper leaned close to my ear and whispered a single sentence that left me frozen with dread:

“Girl, if you want to live, run away from here…”

 

“The First Night I Returned – And the Horrifying Secret Behind Family Love”

I used to believe my life was nothing but a string of misfortunes – orphaned at a young age, raised in a poor children’s home, and deprived of love. But then, everything changed when a wealthy, powerful couple appeared, holding a DNA result and claiming I was their long-lost daughter who had disappeared over twenty years ago.

I cried.

They cried too.

They said they had been searching for me all these years, never losing hope. They brought me to their grand, fairy-tale-like mansion. My mother – a graceful woman who spoke softly. My father – cold, reserved, but full of authority. I believed… I had finally found a real family.

But on the very first night, just as I changed into my pajamas and was getting ready for bed, the housekeeper knocked on my door. She was elderly, with a weary face and sorrowful eyes. She stepped inside, glanced around as if afraid of being watched, then leaned close and whispered into my ear:

“If you want to live… leave this place before it’s too late.”

I was terrified. I questioned her, but she only shook her head and hurried away. I tried to convince myself it was just a misunderstanding.

But the next day, while walking past the library, I accidentally overheard a conversation between my parents and a doctor.

“Her kidney is a perfect match for Linh. Just put her under anesthesia and do it quickly within a few hours. No trace left. Afterward, we can send her abroad to ‘study’ as a farewell gift…”

“But what if she wakes up during the operation?”

“She’s just a girl from an orphanage. No one will investigate.”

I froze.

Linh – their youngest daughter – was only fifteen and in end-stage kidney failure. I was nothing more than the “lost child” they happened to find again… because I shared their blood, because I had a matching kidney. Family love was just a cover. The affection was a trap.

I wasn’t a daughter they cherished. I was an organ donor in their eyes.

That night, I ran away. I fled through the night, through forests and rain. The housekeeper had left a secret gate open at the end of the garden and a small bag with a few coins inside.

While escaping, I heard car horns, people shouting my name, and the sweet, deceitful promises echoing behind me:

“Come home, darling… we did this out of love for you…”

I never looked back.

PART 2: Escaping in the Darkness – When Conscience and Pain Scream

I fled to a small mountain town, where cell signal was weak and barely anyone knew my name. I rented a cheap room and survived by washing dishes at a tiny roadside eatery. No one asked where I came from. And I had no intention of telling.

Every morning, I looked into the mirror, trying to forget the face of the “mother” who once held me in her arms with a trembling voice—only to sign the surgery papers hours later, stealing a part of my body.

But the silence didn’t last long. One day, as I was taking out the trash behind the eatery, a black car parked across the street. A man in a suit stepped out, wearing dark sunglasses. He didn’t ask for directions, didn’t enter the eatery. He just stood there—staring at me—as if… he knew exactly who I was.

I went back inside, heart pounding. In the days that followed, I started noticing unfamiliar faces lurking near the boarding house. Some pretended to be customers. Others, repairmen. None of them said a word—just stared for too long.

They were hunting me.

My Struggle – Torn Between Running and Saving My Sister

Each night, I curled up on my creaky bed in that damp, musty room and asked myself:

“Linh is lying in a hospital bed. She could die if no one helps. And I… I’m the only one who can.”

But then I’d remember my mother’s eyes—devoid of warmth, filled only with calculation. I’d hear my father’s cold, low voice saying:

“Put him under. Take the kidney. Don’t let him know.”

If all they needed was a kidney, why didn’t they just ask? If I were truly their child, why trick me? Why plan to carve me open like some walking organ bank?

I clutched my head, crying without a sound.

“If I don’t help… am I killing someone?”

“But if I go back… will I survive walking out of there?”

My mind screamed for me to run. But my heart—still weak, still desperate to be loved—whispered:

“If they truly need me… maybe this time will be different.”

But They Didn’t Give Up

One night, after my shift, I came home to find my door broken. The room was ransacked. On the bed sat an envelope. Inside was a single photo: Linh in the ICU, tubes all over her fragile body.

And a single handwritten note, scrawled hastily:

“Just come home, and it will all be over. You’ll save your sister. We are a family.”

I clenched the paper, lips trembling.

Family?

The last time someone called me “child” was to lure me onto the operating table.

What Will I Do Next?

I’m planning to flee again—this time with a new name, a whole new identity. But before I leave, I’ve decided to meet with a lawyer—the only person who can expose everything if I disappear forever.

I’ve written it all down in a folder.

If I’m caught.

If I’m forced into surgery.

If I die.

Then the world will know.