“These were your biological parents,” he said.
I picked up the picture with trembling hands.
“They look happy.”
“They were,” Luis replied quietly. “Everyone who knew them described them that way.”
I couldn’t stop staring at their faces, searching for pieces of myself I had never known existed. For the first time in my life, I was looking at the people who had given me my smile, my eyes, and my name.
Then I asked the question I had been afraid to say aloud.
“Do my parents know that I know?”
Margaret slowly shook her head.
“No.”
“They still believe you’re returning from Florida on Sunday.”
I looked at the return ticket still sitting inside my purse before meeting her eyes again.
“What happens now?”
Margaret closed the folder.
“Now you decide whether you want answers.”
I took a long breath before answering.
“I do.”
Part 3: I Finally Went Home
I flew back to Seattle the following morning, but I didn’t go straight to my parents’ house. Instead, I spent several hours with Margaret, Daniel, and Luis reviewing every document they had collected so I could understand exactly what had happened before confronting the people who had raised me.
By late afternoon, I finally parked outside the only home I had ever known. The house looked exactly as it always had, with the same blue shutters, the same flower beds, and the same porch where my parents had waved goodbye every time I left for college or work.
My mother opened the door before I even knocked.
“Claire? You’re home early.”
She smiled as though nothing had changed.
I looked at her quietly before asking,
“Where did you find me?”
The smile disappeared immediately.
My father walked into the hallway a few seconds later, still holding a coffee mug. The moment he saw my face, he stopped walking.
“What happened?”
I reached into my bag, removed the old newspaper clipping, and placed it on the entry table.
“I know.”
Neither of them spoke.
For several long seconds, the only sound inside the house was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room.
Finally, my mother lowered herself into a chair while my father slowly rubbed both hands across his face.
“I always hoped this day would never come,” he whispered.
I looked directly at him.
“Did you take me?”
He closed his eyes before answering.
“Yes.”
