“No, I’m sorry, miss, but I think you have the wrong people.”
“No, I don’t,” I say, my voice firmer now. “You’re my parents. You abandoned me on my grandparents’ doorstep when I was two.”
The woman, my mother, gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, her voice shaky.
“Don’t lie to me,” I snap. “I know it’s you. I recognize you both. And my father has a distinctive birthmark on his left wrist.”
Without waiting, I reach for his sleeve and pull it up
They both freeze once I reveal my father’s birthmark, unable to deny it any longer.
My mother’s eyes well up with tears.
“It’s true,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “We are your parents. I had cancer. I couldn’t take care of you, and your father… he left you with your grandparents so he could be with me when I recovered.”
I can feel my resolve starting to crack.
“Why didn’t you come back for me?” I ask, my voice trembling.
