I went to pick up my wife and our twins from the maternity ward — she was gone, and only a note remained

I went to pick up my wife and our twins from the maternity ward — she was gone, and only a note remained.

I was overwhelmed with joy as I drove to the hospital to bring Lina and our twin daughters home.

For days, I had been preparing for their return: the babies’ room was ready, a celebratory meal was already simmering, and I had even picked up some balloons on the way.

But the moment I arrived, everything fell apart.

Lina was gone.

Only our two little girls were peacefully sleeping, and beside them… a letter.

With trembling hands, I opened the note.

“Goodbye. Take good care of them. Ask your mother what she did to me.”

I stood there speechless, unable to comprehend.

Still in shock, I turned to the nurse:

“My wife… where is she?”

She hesitated before answering:

“She left this morning. She said you were aware.”

But I knew nothing.

I brought the twins home, my heart heavy and my mind racing with questions.

Throughout the pregnancy, Lina had seemed happy… or so I thought.

When I arrived home, my mother was waiting, beaming, a casserole in hand.

“Let me see my granddaughters!”

I froze, staring at her.

“Not now, Mom. What did you do to Lina?”

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I went to pick up my wife and our twins from the maternity ward — she was gone, and only a note remained

I went to pick up my partner and our twins from the maternity ward. Only they were left… and a note.

Lina had disappeared. In her place, a chilling message:

“Protect them. And ask your mother what she did to me.”

Just a few lines, but the impact was devastating.
How could this woman, whom Marc believed to be happy, leave without a word—just when they were about to start the most beautiful chapter of their lives?

I went to pick up my wife and our twins from the maternity ward — she was gone, and only a note remained

This marked the beginning of Marc’s double struggle: raising two newborns alone, and unraveling the threads of a long-hidden family tragedy.

A mother’s secret with irreversible consequences

Marc slowly uncovers the truth, and it has a name: Élise — his own mother.
From the start, she had never accepted Lina. Too fragile, not good enough, she claimed.
What Marc finds in a drawer leaves him speechless: a letter written by Élise to Lina, urging her to leave, warning that she would endanger the babies.

Those words, spoken at the worst possible moment, broke a young mother already on the edge.

The silence after the escape

For months, Marc lives in a whirlwind of diapers, sleepless nights… and solitude.
He tries to find Lina, questions everyone he can—but there’s no trace of her.

Until one day, an anonymous message appears on his phone: a photo of Lina in the hospital with the twins, and a few words filled with regret.

She’s alive. But far away.

I went to pick up my wife and our twins from the maternity ward — she was gone, and only a note remained

Days pass. Then weeks. The twins’ first birthday comes and goes—without their mother.
Then, one winter evening, there’s a knock at the door.

Lina’s return

She’s there. Unrecognizable. Fragile, but standing.
She returns with heartbreaking explanations: a severe postpartum depression, cruel words from her mother-in-law, and a deep—though false—belief that she didn’t deserve her children.

I went to pick up my wife and our twins from the maternity ward — she was gone, and only a note remained

She didn’t leave out of selfishness, but out of fear that she’d be a bad mother.

Marc listens without anger. He doesn’t try to understand everything right away—but he reaches out his hand.

Together, slowly, they begin to rebuild.

A slow but possible path

Lina begins therapy. Marc learns to trust again.
They learn to be a couple again—then a family.

I went to pick up my wife and our twins from the maternity ward — she was gone, and only a note remained

Scars remain.

But every laugh from Lou and Maël reminds them that, beyond pain, love can heal many wounds.

This isn’t a perfect story.

It’s a human story—of a brutal fall, a painful separation, but above all, a return.

Because there’s always a path to reconciliation… even after silence.

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