She lowered her head.
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
Linda shouted:
“We’re sixty-year-old women! Stop lying to us!” What happened next read in the comments ‼️‼️👇👇
Our aunt slowly stood up and took an old photograph from her cabinet.
It showed a teenage girl holding two newborn babies.
The girl was me.
The same eyes.
The same smile.
The same small scar near my eyebrow.
I stood frozen.
“What did they do to me?”
Our aunt began telling us the truth.
My real name was Marianna.
I had grown up in another family.
At fifteen, I became pregnant.
After giving birth, I was taken to a private psychiatric hospital.
There, I was given powerful medications for months.
When I was finally released, my memories were confused and fragmented.
The couple who had taken me in—the people I had called Mom and Dad my entire life—arranged new identity documents.
