Clara secretly met Lydia over the next few weeks. Each story Lydia told matched fragments of Clara’s childhood — the lullaby, the scar on her knee, the name “Star” that no one else knew she once answered to.
Finally, Clara couldn’t take it anymore. She confronted her adoptive parents. “You said she abandoned me,” she said, her voice trembling. “But she didn’t — did she?”
Mark’s eyes filled with guilt. “We didn’t know the whole truth,” he admitted. “Your biological mother was in an accident. She was in a coma for months. The system declared you abandoned before she woke up. When she finally recovered, it was too late. We… we couldn’t bear to lose you.”
Elaine broke down. “We were wrong to hide it. I was just afraid you’d leave us.”
Clara sat there in silence, her heart torn between gratitude and grief.
The next day, she brought Lydia home. Elaine stood frozen at the door, then, slowly, she reached out and hugged the trembling woman. For the first time, Clara saw two mothers — one who had given her life, and one who had fought to give her a better one — both crying in each other’s arms.
That day, the “crazy woman” wasn’t a stranger anymore. She was a mother who had never stopped searching.
If you were Clara, would you have gone back to meet her — or let the past stay buried?
