“I worked there,” she said.
I stared at her.
“As a nurse.”
“What?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Emma, there’s something I should have told you years ago.”
My heart started pounding.
“I tried many times. I really did. But every time I thought I was ready, I became afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
She took a shaky breath.
Then she said the words that changed everything I thought I knew about my life.
“You weren’t born to me.”
I couldn’t speak.
The normal sounds of the hospital continued outside the room.
Carts moving.
Phones ringing.
People talking.
But inside that room, the world had stopped.
“What are you saying?”
Mom reached for my hand.
“I adopted you.”
I stared at her.
“From Maplewood?”
“Yes.”
For several seconds, I simply looked at her.
Then she began telling me the story.
I had been two years old when I arrived at Maplewood House.
