As Ellie’s family returns from their Christmas vacation, they’re in sh0ck when finding their house vandalized with eggs and a mysterious note. Determined to identify the culprit, Ellie reviews the security footage. She is shocked to discover the vandal is someone very close to her. As she confronts them, this reveals years of hurt and manipulation that nearly tears their bond apart. Will Ellie find the strength to face the truth and mend what’s broken?

Christmas was always about family. That’s why we cherished our yearly tradition of escaping to the islands—just the four of us—and soaking in the sun before the holiday chaos. This year was no different. Or so I thought.

Upon returning home, I froze. The house looked like a war zone. Raw eggs dripped from the walls, broken shells littered the porch, and even the holiday wreath was destroyed. The kids were stunned, my husband muttered under his breath, and my chest tightened with disbelief.

Who would do this? I prided myself on being a good neighbor—baking cookies for new families, helping at block parties. This didn’t feel random; it felt personal. Then we found the note shoved under the door: “THIS IS FOR WHAT YOU TOOK FROM ME BEFORE CHRISTMAS!”

The words were a slap. What had I taken? From whom? That night, I checked the cameras. The footage showed a hooded figure methodically hurling eggs. My stomach turned. This wasn’t a prank; it was a vendetta.

I was already dialing the police when I paused the footage and zoomed in. Something about the way the figure moved—the tilt of their head, the familiar posture—made my breath catch. I realized who it was.

“IT COULDN’T BE!” I screamed

But it was. The hooded figure vandalizing our home was my mother.

The next morning, I left Ethan with the kids and drove to my mom’s house.

When I rang the bell, she opened the door.

“Why would you do that to us? Don’t even try to hide it, Mom. Come on!”

“It was because of your mother-in-law Gloria ,” she said, her voice tight.

“What does Gloria have to do with it?” I asked.

“She called me, Eleanor,” my mother snapped, anger seeping into her voice. “Right before Christmas, she called to gloat about how you and Ethan were taking her on your precious island vacation. She said you made her feel so included, so special. And that she got quality time with the kids. And me? Oh, I was just left here to sit alone in the cold.”

I stared at her. “Mom,” I said softly. “We didn’t take Gloria with us. That’s not true at all. She wasn’t on the trip, I promise!”

My mom’s eyes widened.

“But then… why would she say that?”

“To hurt you,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “To make you feel exactly this way. To drive a wedge between us. Why would I take Gloria and not my own mother?”

She covered 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.”

Her words cut deep because they weren’t entirely wrong.

Frankly speaking, the truth was that I had let my mom drift to the edges of our lives. I adored her, but between raising two young kids, managing a full-time job, and keeping up with everything else, I hadn’t noticed how isolated she’d become.

Looking back, the signs were there. The hesitation in her voice during phone calls, the way she’d stopped dropping by unannounced, usually with baked treats for us all.

I’d let my schedule get away with me. And I hadn’t thought about the consequences.

“Mom, what you did was wrong. But I understand why you felt hurt. And I’m sorry if I made you feel left out. I’ve let life get away with me, Momma. It’s been a challenge, juggling work and the kids.”, I said gently, sitting beside her.

“I’m so sorry, Ellie,” my mom said. “I’ll fix everything! I promise! I’ll pay for the cleaning, and I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“We’ll clean it up, Mom,” I interrupted. “Together. But it starts with us fixing us. No more games. No more letting other people’s words twist how we feel. Okay?”

She nodded. We hugged, and for the first time in years, it felt like the walls between us were finally coming down.

That afternoon, together, we scrubbed the egg off the walls, the porch, and the windows.

That night, Ethan and I made grilled cheese sandwiches for the kids and put them to bed. After that, we sat down to talk with a glass of wine.

“Babe, it was your mom that started this whole thing. Gloria called my mom and told her that she was on vacation with us and was having the time of her life. She made it seem so real that my mom broke.”

“You’re kidding, El,” Ethan said, shaking his head. “She really did that? What on earth was she thinking?”

“I have no idea, but I think you need to talk to her. I need to focus on my mom, honey. She’s been feeling abandoned for years, and this was just her breaking point. I’m sorry, but Gloria is on you.”

“I’ll call her,” Ethan said, his voice firm. “She’ll have no choice but to tell me the truth.”

Ethan went into our bedroom and called his mother, while I called my mom again.

“Mom, why don’t you come over to celebrate New Year’s Eve with us? We’re just going to be at home, okay? Let’s just eat and drink and have a good time!”

“You really mean that?” she asked.

“I do, Mom,” I said. “It’s time.”

On New Year’s Eve, Mom arrived at my house.

At midnight, as the fireworks lit up the sky outside, we raised our glasses together.

“Cheers to new beginnings,” my mom said softly.

I looked at my kids’ happy, sleepy faces, my husband’s arm draped around my shoulders, and my mother, glowing with joy. Something shifted.

A week later, Ethan and I sat down with Gloria at a coffee shop.

“Mom, explain yourself,” Ethan said, adding sugar to his coffee. “And don’t deny anything. Be honest.”

“I lied to your mother because I was hurt that you guys didn’t invite us. I don’t know why I did it, but I did. I think I felt overcome with loneliness too. You know how the holidays can creep up on widows…”

“Why didn’t you just go over and spend time with her?” I asked. “You were both lonely. You could have spent time together and enjoyed the holidays getting to know each other better. You could have watched movies and baked and talked until the early hours of the morning.”

“I wasn’t thinking, Ellie,” she said, her voice breaking. “I would take it all back in a heartbeat if I could, I promise you that.”

We were all silent for a while.

“So, now what?” Ethan asked.

“I’m going to phone Irene and make things right. I’m going to plan a tea party with her and make this better. We’ll fix it. Just you see.”

“I hope so, Gloria,” I said. “Because we can’t have the kids torn between their grandmothers. I’m not going to allow that.”

“As you should!” she exclaimed. “I wouldn’t allow it either. I’ll fix it, Ellie. Don’t you worry about that, love.”

In the end, our mothers did fix their relationship. Now, they are mahjong buddies who bake something new every weekend.

And for the record, I can’t stand eggs anymore.