The Parasite in My Daughter’s Veins

1
My husband, David, and his sister, Michelle, brought a girl home, claiming she was Daisy, our daughter, who’d vanished three years ago.
The girl’s face did bear a resemblance to Daisy—maybe a five-point match, as they say—but a cold certainty settled in my gut. “David Miller,” I said, my voice flat, “I’m not so out of touch I wouldn’t recognize my own child.”
Yet, he swore it was her. He even had a paternity test report, but I refused to believe it.
I took the little girl’s image to the media, hoping to find her real family. I even involved the police.
David couldn’t stand my persistence. He had me committed to a psychiatric ward.
Then, one day, a stranger online inexplicably tagged me, claiming to know Daisy’s whereabouts.
I clicked the link. The address led to a secluded, rural property.
In the video, a little girl, emaciated and covered in grime, mimicked a hog, scrabbling for scraps of feed. Her eyes were wide with a terror that clawed at my heart, and she even let out guttural grunts, mimicking the animals.
Her face was identical to my missing Daisy.
The moment I saw this girl, the one David brought home, I knew, with every fiber of my being, she wasn’t my daughter. I raced to the Sheriff’s Department.
“Ms. Miller,” the deputy said, his tone weary. “This case is closed. Your husband has repeatedly confirmed this is your child. Please, don’t misuse public resources.”
No matter how I explained, how I pleaded that the little girl was not my child, no one believed me. The officers watched me with an air of polite exasperation. Of course, they wouldn't. A paternity test had confirmed the five-point resemblance was indeed my daughter.
A moment later, David arrived, striding into the precinct. He grabbed my hand, his eyes burning with anger, but he quickly masked it with an apologetic smile for the officers.
“My apologies, officers. My wife… since our daughter disappeared, she’s been quite distressed. Her mental state isn’t quite stable.”
He tried to tug me away. I erupted, yanking my hand free.
“Enough!” I cried, tossing the official case closure document at him. “How could I not know what my own daughter looks like? This isn’t Daisy! Daisy doesn’t look like this!”
An officer intervened gently, “Children change as they grow, ma’am. It’s been over three years since your daughter vanished.”
David’s voice softened, laced with a feigned helplessness as he looked at me. “Sarah, I know Daisy’s disappearance has haunted you, left you sleepless. Now that she’s finally back, why won’t you believe her? She is our daughter. Please, let’s not make a scene. What will others think of her, seeing you like this?”
Every eye in the room fell on me, scrutinizing me as if I were truly a madwoman.
Three years ago, our family went hiking with David’s sister, Michelle, and her family. My daughter, Daisy, and Michelle’s child, Chloe, went ahead to scout the trail. That’s when Daisy mysteriously disappeared. The police searched endlessly, but she was never found.
Every waking moment since, I’ve been consumed by her absence. At night, as soon as I close my eyes, her face fills my vision.
The little girl David brought back from the authorities, while resembling Daisy, had an entirely different personality and even the most basic habits were off. I couldn’t understand why every family member, even David, insisted she was our daughter.
David led me home. The moment he opened the door, the girl rushed towards me.
“Mommy!” she chirped, her voice overly sweet. “The relatives brought so much crab! Daisy loves crab! It’s so fresh and sweet. Mommy, do you want to try some?”
She hugged my leg. A jolt of revulsion shot through me, leaving my body rigid. Instinctively, I pushed her away.
She stumbled, falling to the floor, and instantly burst into tears.
“Mommy, don’t you love Daisy anymore?”
Seeing her fall, David quickly scooped her up, his eyes blazing with fury as he glared at me. “Sarah Miller, that’s enough! This is our daughter! Why are you kicking her like some maniac?!”
The girl clung to David’s neck, whimpering softly, “Daddy, it’s okay. I know Mommy hasn’t accepted me yet.”
She reached out a hand towards me. I grabbed her wrist, my grip tight.
“Who are you, really? Why are you pretending to be my daughter?”
Tears streamed down her face. She sobbed piteously, burying her face against David’s shoulder. “Daddy, why won’t Mommy believe I’m Daisy…?”
David carried her to the sofa, calming her. Then he strode back, grabbing my arm, dragging me forcefully to stand before the girl. He released me with a shove, throwing me off balance, and I landed hard on the floor.
I looked up. The girl’s lips curved into a fleeting, triumphant smirk. A moment later, her voice turned saccharine again.
“Daddy, you hurt Mommy.”
“Mommy, I really am Daisy! Look at my necklace. We picked out the beads together at the jewelry store. It’s our secret.”
I scrambled forward, frantically examining the necklace around her neck. Her tears flowed anew, uncontrolled.
“Mommy, I really didn’t lie! I’m Daisy! Don’t you want me anymore?”
I froze. The necklace… it was the one Daisy and I had chosen together. Even the yellow crystal on it had a faint crack, just like I remembered.
Just as I was about to question her further, David pulled me roughly away, separating us.
“Sarah Miller, that’s enough! You’re questioning our daughter over and over again! She’s been through so much these past few years. It’s perfectly normal for her personality to have changed!”
I knew David loved our daughter fiercely. From her infancy, he’d handled everything—her diapers, her outfits. He was devoted. I just couldn’t fathom why he couldn’t recognize his own child. I even began to wonder if my own mind was truly unraveling, but when she touched me, I felt a visceral revulsion I couldn’t control.
Just then, David’s adoptive sister, Michelle, arrived. Michelle had always doted on Daisy, spending as much time with her as I did, if not more.

2
When I saw Michelle, it was like seeing a lifeline. “Michelle,” I pleaded, my voice cracking, “Look at this girl! She’s not Daisy, is she?”
Michelle’s face registered a flicker of surprise, then an awkward glance at the girl.
“Sarah, are you… are you seeing things? This is Daisy.”
She even pulled out her phone, showing me photos of Daisy taken years ago, comparing them.
It was strange. I remembered Daisy looking differently three years ago, but all the photos Michelle showed me now featured this girl’s face. A cold dread seeped into my bones, a chilling sense of unease spreading through me.
David, holding the girl’s hand, looked at me with a mocking glint in his eyes. Just as I was about to speak, the front door opened.

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