My husband’s “estranged sister” and her 6-year-old son stayed with us for two weeks. I cared for them, only to later learn from his aunt that he never had a sister.
When I pressed, Navid claimed she was a half-sister no one spoke about. But my gut told me otherwise. A reverse search revealed her real name—Maritza DeLeon—and her son Reza. She wasn’t family at all, but someone Navid once dated.
Soon after, Maritza abandoned Reza, listing our home as his secondary residence. CPS showed up with paperwork Navid had secretly signed, making us co-guardians. I felt betrayed—lied to, dragged into something huge without consent.
Still, I couldn’t turn Reza away. For a month, he lived with us until his real aunt came forward to take custody. The day he left, he called me his “other mom.” I broke down—but also felt free.
Navid and I ended. The trust was gone. But I kept something real: the love of a little boy who needed it, and the strength to choose peace for myself.
