When Ellie’s family returns from their Christmas holiday, they are surprised to find their house egged and a cryptic note left behind. Determined to find the culprit, Ellie checks the security footage and discovers that the vandal is someone very close to her. A confrontation with this person reveals years of resentment and manipulation that nearly destroyed their bond. Will Ellie be able to cope with this?
Christmas has always been about family. That’s why for the past four years, my husband Ethan, our seven-year-old daughter Maddie, our five-year-old son Noah and I have made it a tradition to go away to the islands.
Just the four of us, basking in the sunshine, recuperating before a whirlwind of holiday dinners and social obligations.
And this year was no exception. Or so I thought.
When we pulled into our driveway after our trip, I froze.
Our house looked like a crime scene.
There were sticky streams of raw eggs dripping off the walls, the porch was littered with broken eggshells, and even the holiday wreath I had lovingly created was splattered and stinky.
‘What the hell?’ muttered Ethan as he got out of the car, Noah following at his heels.
‘Mum, what’s wrong?’ asked Maddie from the back seat.
‘I don’t know, honey,’ I replied, feeling a knot tighten in my chest.
Noah crouched down next to the mess.
‘Daddy, can a bird do that?’ – he asked.
I tried to stay calm for the sake of the kids, but inside me everything was boiling.
Who could have done this?
We were good neighbours – no, we were great neighbours! I baked biscuits for new families, helped organise block parties and never turned down an opportunity to help.
This wasn’t random vandalism. It was purposeful. That’s the way it should be.
Then Ethan found the note. It was stuffed under the doorjamb, the edges crumpled and damp. He held it out to me.
This is for what you took from me before Christmas.
I stared at the words, my thoughts racing.
What had I taken away? And from whom?
That night, after putting the kids to bed, Ethan and I went straight to the security cameras. As we scrolled through the footage, my stomach cramped.
The camera captured a hooded figure sneaking down our driveway with cartons of eggs in hand. Each throw was deliberate, as if they had rehearsed the movement. This wasn’t a prank, this was a vendetta.
‘This is crazy,’ Ethan said. ‘Who does something like this anyway? It’s a drunken prank for rowdy teenagers. Eggs and toilet paper.’
Then something about the figure made me freeze. The way they tilted their head. The way their shoulders slouched between throws. It took my breath away.
‘No,’ I whispered, shaking my head. ‘This can’t be happening.’
But it was.
The hooded figure who had vandalised our house was my mother.
The next morning, I left Ethan with the kids and drove to my mother’s house. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly I thought I might break it in two.
When I rang the bell, she opened the door with her usual warm smile.
‘Ellie! What a surprise!’
‘Why?’ I whispered, letting the pleasantries pass my ears. ‘Just explain why.’
Her smile trembled.
‘Why what? Explain what?’ – She asked.
‘Why did you do this to us? Don’t even try to hide it, Mum. Come on!’
She blinked, her face pale as she tried to think of what to say. Then she looked away, her expression darkened with guilt.
‘Let’s sit down, Elle,’ she said.
‘I don’t want to sit down, Mum. I want to know why you took the trouble to spoil my house.’
‘It’s all because of your mother-in-law,’ she finally said, her voice becoming hard.
‘What does Gloria have to do with it?’ I asked.
‘She called me, Eleanor,’ Mum snapped, anger rising in her voice. ‘Just before Christmas, she called to gloat about how you and Ethan took her on your precious island holiday. She said you made her feel so important, so special. And that she got to spend time with her kids. And me, oh, I was just left here sitting alone in the cold.’
I stared at her, completely stunned.
‘Mum,’ I said quietly. ‘We didn’t take Gloria with us. That’s not true at all. She wasn’t on the trip, I promise!’
Mum’s eyes widened.
‘But then…why did she say that?’
‘To hurt you,’ I said, my voice soft but firm. ‘To make you feel this way. To drive a wedge between us. Why did I have to accept Gloria and not my own mother?’
She sank down on the couch, covering her face with her hands.
‘I was so angry, Ellie. I felt invisible, like I didn’t matter to you anymore. And I…I lost control of myself.’
Her words pierced to the core because they weren’t entirely wrong.
To be completely honest, the truth was that I had let my mum take a back seat in our lives. I adored her, of course, but while raising two young children, working full-time and managing everything else, I didn’t notice how isolated she became.