Thanksgiving was supposed to be perfect. The table was set, the turkey was cooking, and laughter filled the room. My husband, Peter, was finishing the turkey, and I was making sure everyone was comfortable. However, the holiday would bring more surprises than we expected.

Our daughter, Emma, an expressive eight-year-old, had been unusually quiet, glancing out the window and fidgeting with her dress. She couldn’t sit still, which was odd for her, but I thought she was just excited for the meal or waiting for cousins to arrive.

As Peter smiled at her from across the table, Emma didn’t return the smile. Her restlessness began to grab my attention. Just as I was about to carve the turkey, Emma suddenly stood on her chair, commanding everyone’s focus.

With a loud voice, she asked, “And where is SHE?!” The room went silent, and I felt a cold wave of anxiety wash over me. My parents and in-laws exchanged puzzled glances, and even Peter froze.

I tried to stay calm and asked, “Who, sweetie?”

With a serious expression, Emma answered, “The woman Dad keeps hidden in our shed!” Her innocent face was filled with confusion, and my heart sank.

“What are you talking about, sweetie?” I asked, looking at Peter, whose face had gone pale.

Emma’s eyes locked on Peter as she said, “The woman who lives in the shed! I saw her with my OWN eyes! Dad goes to see her when you’re out shopping or at work.”