The housekeeper suddenly asked to quit after revealing she was four months pregnant. When I asked who the baby’s father was, she firmly refused to say—until one day, I found the evidence myself

THE DOORBELL NEXT DOOR

CHAPTER 1: THE QUIET HOUSEKEEPER

My name is Margaret Wilson.

That year, I was thirty-eight years old, living with my husband Richard Wilson and our eight-year-old daughter Anna in a quiet, middle-class suburban neighborhood in California. Our house was a two-story cream-colored home, with hydrangeas blooming in the front yard and a white fence always neatly trimmed.

From the outside, my life looked like the kind many women dreamed of.

Richard was a senior manager at a logistics company, earning a stable income of about $180,000 a year. I used to work as an accountant, but after Anna was born, I became a full-time homemaker, taking care of the household and managing everything inside it.

Three years earlier, I had hired a housekeeper named Linda Brown.

Linda was only twenty-three at the time. She was thin, dark-skinned, with eyes that were always lowered. She worked hard, spoke little, and never complained. Every morning, she woke up earlier than I did to prepare breakfast, do the laundry, and keep the house spotless.

I felt sorry for Linda.

She once told me her mother had died early, her father was an alcoholic, and she had dropped out of school at seventeen, drifting from job to job just to survive. When she applied to work for us, she only asked for $1,800 a month, lower than the usual rate.

I voluntarily raised it to $2,200.

“If you work well, I won’t let you suffer,” I told her.

Linda lowered her head, her eyes welling up.

“You’re very kind to me, Mrs. Margaret.”

I never imagined that this very kindness would later pull me into a mess I could never have anticipated.


CHAPTER 2: THE SUDDEN RESIGNATION

Everything began on a morning in late April.

I was feeding Anna breakfast when Linda stood quietly at the kitchen doorway, her hands clasped together, her face pale.

“Mrs. Margaret…”

“What’s wrong, Linda?” I asked, still pouring milk.

She bowed her head deeply.

“I… I need to quit my job.”

I froze.

“So suddenly? Is there something wrong at home?”

Linda shook her head, then nodded, then shook it again. Finally, she burst into tears.

“I… I’m pregnant.”

I was stunned.

“How many months?”

“Four.”

I calculated quickly. Four months ago… Linda had still been working normally, showing no signs at all.

“Who is the father?” I asked, unable to hide my concern.

Linda fell silent.

“Linda?”

She shook her head violently.

“I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

“Please don’t ask anymore.”

I sighed.

“Linda, I’m not blaming you. But you need a plan. If you quit, how will you afford to have the baby? I can help.”

Linda looked up at me, terror in her eyes.

“No… I don’t dare.”

She packed her things quietly. Before she left, I gave her $5,000 as financial support.

Her hands trembled as she took the money.

“I’ll never forget your kindness.”

When the door closed behind her, I felt as though something deeply unsettling had just left my house.


CHAPTER 3: STRANGE SIGNS

After Linda left, I had to handle everything myself. While cleaning her old room, I began noticing things… that didn’t feel right.

Inside the drawer was a man’s scarf.

It didn’t belong to Richard. Dark gray. A strange masculine cologne lingered on it.

I showed it to my husband.

“Do you know whose this is?” I asked.

Richard glanced at it and shrugged.

“No idea. Maybe a guest left it?”

We rarely had male guests.

I started paying closer attention.

In the evenings, I often saw Jack Miller—the driver employed by our neighbors—standing near the fence smoking. Jack was about thirty-five, tall, always wearing a casual grin.

He often chatted with Linda whenever she took out the trash.

I had noticed them talking for quite a while before.

At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it.

Until I suddenly remembered: Linda was four months pregnant… and Jack had started working for the neighbors about five months ago.

The coincidence sent a chill down my spine.


CHAPTER 4: THE OLD PHONE

One afternoon, I discovered that Linda had left behind an old phone in a kitchen drawer. She must have forgotten it in her haste.

I hesitated for a long time.

In the end, I turned it on.

There was no password.

Messages flooded the screen.

Sender name: J.

“Meet me at the usual place tonight.”
“I miss you.”
“Be careful—don’t let your boss get suspicious.”
“The baby is mine. Don’t worry.”

My hands began to shake.

I scrolled further. Dozens of messages. Photos of the two of them inside a car, inside the storage shed behind the neighborhood.

In one photo, I clearly recognized Jack Miller’s face.

The driver next door.

I collapsed into a chair.

So that was why Linda had refused to speak.

She was afraid.

Afraid I would discover the truth.


CHAPTER 5: THE CONFRONTATION

I decided to meet Linda.

She was renting a small room near the bus station, her belly now visibly swollen.

When she saw me, she burst into tears immediately.

“You know, don’t you?” she sobbed.

I placed the phone on the table.

“Jack Miller.”

Linda lowered her head, not denying it.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t dare tell you. He said if I did, he would deny everything.”

“How did you get involved with him?” I asked.

Linda told me everything, her voice breaking.

Jack often came to our house to pick up the lady next door. Seeing Linda alone and gentle, he started talking to her, helping her carry things, buying her coffee.

Once, when Richard and I were away on a trip, Jack came over to “fix a pipe.”

That was when things crossed the line.

“He said he would marry me…” Linda cried.

I closed my eyes.

“Do you know he has a wife?” I asked quietly.

Linda froze.

“A wife?”

“And two children.”

Linda clutched her belly and broke down completely.


CHAPTER 6: THE DOORBELL NEXT DOOR

That evening, I went to the neighbor’s house.

Jack opened the door, wearing the same familiar smile.

“Is something wrong, Mrs. Wilson?”

I showed him the phone.

The smile vanished instantly.

“What are you going to do about the baby?” I asked.

Jack stammered.

“That’s… a private matter.”

“No,” I said calmly. “It’s a responsibility you must face.”

I made it clear: if Jack didn’t publicly acknowledge the child and provide at least $2,000 a month to support Linda and the baby, I would send all the evidence to his wife and his employer.

Jack’s face turned pale.

“You can’t…”

“Yes, I can.”

He stayed silent for a long time.

Finally, he nodded.


CHAPTER 7: AN END NO ONE WANTED

Three months later, Jack was fired.

His wife filed for divorce.

Linda gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

I didn’t hire another housekeeper right away. I learned to do everything myself, as if making amends for my earlier blindness.

Some afternoons, I stood by the window, looking at the house next door—the place where fake laughter had once echoed.

And I realized something:

Not all secrets are hidden within four walls.

Some secrets… need only the ringing of a doorbell next door to make everything collapse.

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