Suddenly, the girl rushed over and grabbed my mother’s hand.
“Grandma, who is this?”
My chest tightened violently. I turned toward my parents.
“Who… who is this child?”
My mother collapsed into tears.
“She… she’s your brother.”
Everything inside me shattered.
“That’s impossible!” I cried. “I raised my child myself! What are you talking about?”
My father sighed, his voice weak with age.
“We adopted a baby who was left at our gate… eighteen years ago.”
My body went numb.
“Left… at the gate?”
My mother retrieved an old diaper from a cabinet. I recognized it instantly—the one I had wrapped my newborn in.
It felt like my heart was being stabbed.
