The moment I opened the door, I just knew everything was about to change.
A woman stood on the porch, clutching the railing as if it were the only thing holding her up. Her blonde hair hung in messy waves, dark circles hollowing her tired eyes. When she saw me, she sucked in a sharp breath, like she’d been holding it for years.
“Emma?” she gasped.
“Yeah… who are you?” I hesitated.
Her throat bobbed, her lip trembled, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said the words that turned my world upside down.
“I’m your mother.”
The floor felt like it shifted beneath me.
“Your real mother,” she added, stepping closer.
A cold, twisting sensation coiled in my stomach.
No. No way.
This had to be a mistake.
“I know this is a shock,” she said, her voice raw. “But please, Emma. Please listen to me.”
