Review: Not Her Daughter

Not Her Daughter by Rea Frey
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

My mind was already somewhere else—on a huge, generic coffee and the gossipy magazine I’d buy—when I saw her. Something inside me wrenched. A little girl, not more than five or six, stood in a red dress with shiny sequins attached to a full skirt that swished when she moved. A red bow perched on her mousy brown ponytail. Slippers that could have been a match for Dorothy’s in The Wizard of Oz hugged compact, white feet. She looked like Christmas. I watched her with a smile on my lips and felt, foolishly, like I recognized her; she was so familiar, she could have been my very own.

While at the airport waiting to board a flight, Sarah spots a sad little girl, Emma with her family. The memory of this far-off encounter stays with her because she feels a strange camaraderie with her because of the way her mother was treating her. (Sarah's own mother did not want her and eventually abandoned her when she was eight.)

Fast forward a few months later, and Sarah has (almost) been able to forget about Emma, and the sad, haunted look on her face. That is, until fate throws them together once again, when Sarah and her business team visit a kindergarten to pitch their line of educational products.

Discovering that Emma and her family live nearby, she begins to watch them, and is a witness to the horrific abuse that Emma suffers at the hands of her mother, Amy.

“Go!” Amy pushed Emma. She snagged her red shoe on the carpet and pitched forward, skidding to a stop on her knees and elbows. The mother, rolling her eyes, hoisted the baby higher and jerked Emma up by her elbow. I watched the red splotches erupt on her arm, splotches that would later bruise and turn purple. Emma pulled herself up and rubbed her sore elbow and carpet-burned knees.

This was a real child in real life with real consequences. I knew I didn’t have any right to inject myself into her life, but I had to know she’d be okay. Somehow. Some way.

There’s one question that cuts across the rest and keeps me rooted to the spot: What if she needs to be rescued?

One evening, during a particularly bad moment between Amy and Emma, Amy locks her daughter out of the house and goes to bed. Sarah, meanwhile, is watching the cottage from the woods, and observes this.

I just want to see her one last time. I want to see her playing, jovial and happy. I want to see her sitter engaged, to have verification that someone is on her side. I want to watch her mom come home, witness the exchange, see just one hug, an arm around her shoulder, something to assure me that this girl will grow up and prosper.

She struggles with her conscience, before making the decision to take Emma and give her the chance to be happy.

Emma had a whole world to gain, and I wanted to be the one to give it to her. I wanted to give her a second chance at a life I wanted to live.

On the run now, from state to state, we watch Emma blossom into a happy little child under Sarah's care.

Meanwhile, back home, Emma's mother seems indifferent to her daughter's disappearance. Amy had always had a tough time connecting with her daughter, probably because she never wanted kids.

Emma was the chaos, and now, in her absence, there was even more. She was like a tiny wrecking ball, knocking down everything in her path just to see how much damage she could get away with.


This book was very well written, taking into account both Amy and Sarah's perspectives, and in three different timelines, "then", "during" and "after". As the reader, you get to explore what makes each of these women tick. I was very curious to see just how it would all eventually unfold, and it did not disappoint.

View all my reviews