But Emily always carried one unanswered question in her heart.
Who were her biological parents?
Her adoptive parents had never hidden the fact that she was adopted. They had simply explained that her birth mother had been very young and unable to raise a child at the time.
Emily had asked a few questions over the years, but she never pushed too hard.
She didn’t want her adoptive parents to feel that she loved them any less.
As we grew older, we became even closer.
We survived our teenage years together, helped each other through university, celebrated our first jobs, and cried over relationships that ended badly.
When I got married at 24, Emily was my maid of honor.
She stood beside me in a beautiful blue dress, smiling as I exchanged vows.
She was also the first person I called when my marriage began falling apart.
My husband and I divorced five years later.
