When Briony reads her daughter’s innocent letter to Santa, she’s blindsided by a request for the same heart-shaped earrings her husband apparently gave their nanny. Suspicion spirals into doubt, leading Briony to uncover a heartbreaking truth tied to a long-kept secret…
My name’s Briony, and Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year. My husband, Ansel, and I have an eight-year-old daughter named Nova, and our holiday traditions are what make everything feel so special.
Every December, Nova writes a letter to Santa, folds it neatly, and puts it in the freezer. It’s a strange little habit, but to her it makes complete sense.
“It’s how the mail gets to the North Pole, Mom! I saw it on TV,” she explained once, eyes wide with certainty.
This year was the same. Nova spent most of the evening at the dining table, tongue sticking out in concentration as she drew something on her letter and snacked on chocolate-covered almonds.
“It’s finished, Mommy!” she sang, hopping over to the freezer and sliding it in like it was the most important delivery in the world.
I smiled at her excitement. I assumed she was asking for the usual things—a new paint set, a dollhouse, or maybe that sparkly unicorn toy she’d been talking about for weeks.
Whatever it was, I couldn’t wait to help make her Christmas wishes come true. Nova was never a demanding child, and Christmas was really the only time she asked for anything. Even on her birthday, all she ever wanted was a big chocolate cake.
That night, after Nova was tucked in and Ansel was reading her a bedtime story, I slipped into the kitchen to peek at her letter.
It had become my quiet little ritual. I loved getting a glimpse into my daughter’s imagination, seeing what wonders she believed Santa could deliver, and reading all the sweet reasons she gave for being on the nice list.
But when I unfolded the paper, my breath caught in my throat.
The page was covered in Nova’s colorful handwriting and a careful drawing of heart-shaped earrings. Under the picture, she had written:
“Dear Santa, please bring me the same heart-shaped earrings Dad gave to our nanny! Thank you!”
I stood there, frozen.
The kitchen suddenly felt too still, the air too heavy.
What was she talking about? Ansel had given Sabine, our nanny, heart-shaped earrings?
My hands trembled as I read it again, my pulse racing. Why would Nova want earrings just like Sabine’s? And why would Ansel give our nanny jewelry in the first place?
Memories I had brushed off before started flooding back—the way Ansel’s smile lingered when he joked with Sabine, how easily he asked her to stay late when I had evening commitments, the thoughtful little gifts he’d given her over the years. They seemed innocent at the time, but now they twisted in my stomach.
Had I been completely blind? Was Ansel hiding something right in our own home?
The next morning, I went through the motions like everything was normal, but inside I was falling apart. I kissed Ansel goodbye as he headed to work, pretending nothing was wrong while my mind raced.
“What’s the plan for today?” I asked Sabine as she poured milk over Nova’s cereal.
School was out, and I needed to know Sabine would actually keep Nova busy.
“We’re going to finish some school projects,” Sabine said with a smile. “And then do lots of reading!”
“Sounds good,” I replied. “I’ll be working in the study most of the day. But we can get smoothies later, Nova. You can head home early, Sabine.”
Sabine nodded and carried Nova’s breakfast outside. They’d made a habit of eating on the patio, spotting birds together.
Once they were gone, I opened my laptop and ordered a nanny cam. It felt ridiculous, like something from a dramatic TV show, but I couldn’t just ask Ansel outright. If he denied it, I’d be no closer to the truth.
Thanks to fast (and overpriced) shipping, the camera arrived that afternoon. I hid it among the Christmas decorations in the living room.
I hated doing it, but I had to know.
The next day, Ansel left for work as usual, and I dropped Nova at a playdate. Sabine stayed home to tidy up, humming along to Christmas music on the radio.
I forced a smile and told her I’d be home late and to lock up when she left.
But by mid-morning, my phone buzzed. The app notified me of movement. I opened the feed and saw Ansel in the living room. My stomach dropped. He wasn’t supposed to be home.
I watched as he handed Sabine a small wrapped box. She looked surprised, then smiled as she opened it.
I couldn’t stay at work another minute. I grabbed my things, told my boss there was a family emergency, and drove home.
When I walked in, it felt like stepping into a bad dream. Ansel was still there, standing by the couch, and Sabine sat holding the open gift—a heart-shaped pendant.
Something to go with those earrings, I guess.
They both froze when they saw me.
“What’s going on here?” I asked, my voice shaking.
No one spoke at first. My gaze shot to Sabine’s ears—her hair was pulled back, putting them on full display. There they were.
The heart-shaped earrings, exactly like the ones Nova had drawn.
“Lovely earrings, Sabine,” I said sharply, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Must feel nice getting jewelry from my husband. From someone else’s husband.”
Sabine’s face went white. She started to speak, but Ansel stepped forward.
“Bri, wait,” he said, using my nickname like it would calm everything. “I can explain.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” I snapped. “And it better be good, because right now it looks like you’ve been seeing our nanny behind my back.”
Ansel sighed heavily, shoulders dropping.
“You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”
“That’s your excuse?” I shouted. “That you just didn’t want to get caught?”
“No, that’s not it,” he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “Just hear me out, okay? Those earrings… they’re not really from me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Ansel paused, then took a deep breath.
“They were from Rilan. My best friend.”
The anger rushed out of me, replaced by confusion.
“Rilan? Who is Rilan?”
Sabine spoke for the first time, her voice quiet.
“Rilan was Ansel’s best friend, Briony. My brother.”
My head spun. Ansel guided me to sit down, guilt heavy in his voice as he told me everything.
Fourteen years ago, his best friend Rilan had died of cancer. Before he passed, he asked Ansel to look after Sabine. That explained why Ansel had been so insistent on hiring her all those years ago.
She was only nineteen then and had just lost her parents too.
“He left me a box of gifts for her,” Ansel said, voice thick. “Things he wanted her to have for big moments in her life—birthdays, milestones, times when she might need to feel he was still there. He picked them all out during chemo.”
I looked at Sabine. Tears glistened in her eyes.
Ansel kept going.
“I’ve been keeping that promise ever since. The earrings were in the box. They were meant for her—from Rilan. Not from me.”
I stared at him, letting it all sink in.
“So all this secrecy… you were just honoring a promise.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I should have told you long ago, Bri. I just never found the right way. And talking about Rilan… it’s still hard for me.”
“And you never thought to mention any of this?” I turned to Sabine. “You knew the whole story the entire time and said nothing? Nova asked Santa for these exact earrings. That’s why I thought the worst.”
Sabine shook her head, eyes full of regret.
“I had no idea Nova even noticed them, let alone wanted a pair. If I’d known, I would have explained everything immediately. I never meant to cause any pain…”
That Christmas turned into a time of both hurt and healing. Ansel and I talked for hours. I wasn’t happy about the years of silence, but I couldn’t ignore how beautiful his loyalty to Rilan truly was. And honestly, Sabine had become part of our family. Nova adored her.
We sat down with Nova over waffles and told her a gentle version of the story behind the earrings. She listened wide-eyed, completely enchanted, and still insisted Santa bring her a matching pair.
And Santa did.
On Christmas morning, Nova opened a small box and found her own heart-shaped earrings. Her smile lit up the whole room, and for the first time in weeks, my heart felt full again instead of heavy with doubt.
Those earrings became something bigger than jewelry. They turned into a quiet reminder—of love that lasts beyond loss, of Ansel’s faithfulness to his friend, and of the love that held our family steady even through misunderstanding. We also taught Nova about the strength of promises and unconditional care.
Sometimes the truth stings at first. But sometimes it mends everything.
That Christmas, it did both.