Upon returning from abroad, the first thing I did was join the parents' group of Matilda's kindergarten and changed my display name to "Matilda's Mom." I planned to pick her up from school that afternoon and surprise her.

Just after I'd tagged her teacher in the group chat, another "Matilda's Mom" suddenly appeared, launching a tirade at me.

"I've seen shameless people, but never someone this audacious. Who dares to impersonate others like this?"

"Either you're a kidnapper or a homewrecker. This is a parents' group, not a place for just anyone to sneak in."

Before I could wrap my head around her accusations, she posted a video of my daughter calling her "mom," with the setting unmistakably in my own home. She even changed her profile picture to one with my daughter, flaunting her claim.

Shocked and bewildered, I called my husband immediately. "When did you get a new wife? And replace me as Matilda's mom?"

He replied, "You're talking gibberish! If I ever replaced anyone, it certainly wouldn't be you!"

After a year working hard at the European branch of the company, I had just returned home. As soon as I got off the plane, I joined the kindergarten's parents' group, eager to reconnect with home. I changed my display name to "Matilda's Mom" and tagged her class teacher, letting her know I planned to pick up Matilda that afternoon for a surprise.

Before the teacher could respond, another parent with the same name jumped in.

"I've seen audacious people before, but never someone this cheeky. How dare anyone impersonate like this?"

"If you're not a kidnapper, then you're trying to wreck someone else's family. Seriously, who lets these people into our group?"

I was utterly baffled by the insults and was about to type a reply, thinking it was a misunderstanding or perhaps a case of shared names. To my astonishment, she then shared a video of Matilda calling her "mom" and promptly changed her profile picture to one with my daughter, staking her claim.

Upon close inspection, the video and picture backgrounds were indeed my townhouse—genuine, not edited. I was dumbfounded. If she was claiming to be Matilda's mom, then who was I?

Did I come back from work only to find another woman had taken over my home? I'd never even met this woman. Could Arthur, that cheating scoundrel, have had an affair and let our daughter call another woman "mom"?

I was just about to call Arthur for answers when the parents' chat erupted.

Wynter Bennett's mom: "Hilarious, these mistresses are getting bolder by the day, starting with the kids, huh? And she dares to sneak into the kindergarten group."

Dalia Gonzales's mom: "Matilda's real mom picks her up every day. Who doesn't know her? This mistress must be delusional to think she can impersonate."

Isla Gardner's mom: "You all don't get it—she's provoking the real wife. She wants to be the CEO's wife!"

Emmeline Gonzales's mom: "People like this with ulterior motives should be reported straight to the police. Can't stand shameless mistresses; treating them like human traffickers would be best."

Upon witnessing the flood of support for her, the woman ceased her tirade and instead posted a series of passive-aggressive emojis. Then she tagged Hayley Martin, the class teacher, as if she had some kind of authority, acting more entitled than I ever would, as though she were a person of significance.

I finally grasped what was happening—an imposter was pretending to be me, claiming to be the wife of the CEO of Torres Enterprises and posing as my daughter’s mother, flaunting it everywhere. I've always been discreet, but this fraud had no qualms about showing off!

Some parents from this esteemed preschool had business ties with our company and were verbally vicious in their support of her. They kept tagging Hayley Martin repeatedly, demanding that she expel such a disgraceful person as me. They accused the teacher of being negligent, allowing a calculating interloper to infiltrate the parent group.

I wasn't about to get into a shouting match with them in the group chat. So I decided to reach out to Hayley directly to clear up the confusion. Just then, I saw her post a message: "I’m not sure how this person ended up here. My mistake. Apologies, Mrs. Torres."

Seconds later, a notification appeared—Hayley Martin had removed me from the group chat.

Frustrated, I was boiling with anger. I immediately called Arthur. He was out of town for a meeting but paused the proceedings to answer my call: "Hey, love, missing me already?"

"I miss you too! I’ll jump on a plane to see you as soon as the meeting wraps up!"

I retorted sarcastically, "No need for that, you’ve got a new wife now, right? And a new mom for our daughter, so what do you need me for?"

Arthur was astonished on the other end, springing out of his seat: "What kind of nonsense are you talking about? I’d never replace you! Even if I could make a swap, it wouldn’t be you!"

Startled, he was prepared to drop everything and hurry home immediately.

Of course, it made sense; it took him three persistent years to convince me to marry him, so the likelihood of him cheating was slim. We've been childhood sweethearts—if he dared stray, I'd make sure he regretted it.

I filled him in on the situation with the group chat and asked if he knew this other "mom" impersonating me.

Arthur vehemently insisted he had no idea who she was, raising his voice to the point of causing a scene.

That's odd; someone he doesn’t even recognize has been picking up my daughter every day for a year, pretending to be me.