The dinner table was perfectly set, the aroma of steaks wafting through the air. My husband was by the grill, and I stood in the kitchen, nervously wiping my hands on a towel as my son pulled up with his fiancée.
“Mom, Dad, this is Cindy,” my son, Jacob, beamed.
I turned to greet her, but the moment I saw her face, my stomach dropped. Time slowed. That face… I’d seen it before. It was unmistakable.
“Cindy,” she said with a shy smile, holding out her hand. But I couldn’t move.
Memories flashed through my mind. The news articles, the police report… The girl who had vanished two years ago after a series of high-profile cons in three states. She wasn’t shy—she was calculated.
I forced a smile, masking my shock. “Welcome, Cindy. We’re so happy to have you here.”
Jacob, oblivious, laughed. “Cindy was so nervous about tonight, but I told her you’d love her. Right, Mom?”
I nodded, the wheels in my head spinning. “Of course. Cindy, why don’t you help me pick out a wine from the basement for dinner?”
She hesitated but nodded, following me down the stairs. My hands trembled as I opened the cellar door and gestured for her to enter.
“This is such a nice place,” she started to say, but I didn’t let her finish. I stepped back, slammed the door shut, and locked it.
“What’s going on?” Jacob’s voice called from the top of the stairs.
I stormed up to him, shaking with anger and fear. “Jacob, call the police. Now.”
“What? Mom, are you serious?” he asked, bewildered.
“Yes!” I yelled. “Do you even know who she is? She’s been on the run for years! She’s wanted in three states for fraud and theft! Her real name isn’t even Cindy!”
Jacob stared at me, his face pale. “Mom, that’s crazy. She’s… she’s not like that.”
I whipped out my phone and quickly found an old news article. There it was: her mugshot staring back at me. Same face, same sly smile. I shoved the phone in Jacob’s hand.
“Explain this,” I demanded.
Jacob looked at the photo, then back at me. “This… this can’t be true.”
At that moment, Cindy’s voice came from the basement. “Jacob! What’s going on? Why is the door locked?”
“Let her out!” he pleaded, but my husband stepped in, his voice firm. “No. Not until the police get here.”
Minutes later, sirens wailed outside. Cindy’s cries turned to silence as officers descended into the basement to escort her out.
As she was led away in cuffs, she looked up at Jacob, her face a mixture of anger and desperation. “I love you, Jacob. This is all a mistake!”
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But Jacob’s expression was blank, his trust shattered.
When the door closed behind her, he turned to me, tears in his eyes. “Mom, how did you know?”
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“Because, Jacob,” I said softly, pulling him into a hug, “a mother always knows when someone’s trying to hurt her family.”