“Emma, there’s something I should have told you years ago. I tried many times, but every time I thought I was ready, I became afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
She took a shaky breath.
“You weren’t born to me.”
For a moment, the sounds of the hospital outside seemed to disappear. I could only stare at the woman I had called Mom for thirty-two years while trying to understand what those words meant.
“What are you saying?”
“I adopted you.”
“From Maplewood?”
“Yes.”
Mom explained that I had been two years old when I arrived there after my biological parents died in a serious car accident. Relatives existed on both sides of my family, but complicated disagreements prevented anyone from immediately taking custody, and weeks eventually became months without anyone coming for me.
At the time, Mom and Dad had spent years unsuccessfully trying to have children. Helen was working as a nurse at Maplewood when she met me, and she said the first interaction between us had changed everything.
“The first time I met you, you grabbed my finger and wouldn’t let go.”
She smiled through her tears.
“That was it for me.”
