My Mother Fed the Homeless Boy Behind Our House for 20 Years — After Her Funeral, He Took My Hand and Said, “Your Mother Kept the Truth from You”

was Dorian. 

I stared at the photograph.

“No.”

Dorian’s voice became quiet.

“Your mother gave birth to me when she was sixteen.”

I pushed the picture away.

“That’s impossible.”

“Her parents sent her to stay with relatives in another state until I was born. Then I was placed for adoption.”

My mouth went dry.

Mom had never mentioned having another child.

Dorian explained that his adoptive parents had loved him, but both died before he finished high school. His adoptive father died first. His mother became ill soon afterward, and the medical bills took almost everything they owned.

After she died, Dorian searched through her papers and found the name Marlene Hale.

He came to our town looking for his birth mother.

“That’s why you were behind our house,” I whispered.

“I didn’t know how to approach her. Then your father died before I could decide what to do.”