Chapter 2

The morning after the celebration, Matthew posted a photograph with Robert and Helena.

Helena stood between them, still wearing the pin purchased with my card.

The caption read:

For the first time, I finally understand where I come from. I will always appreciate the woman who raised me, but I hope she can respect my decision to reconnect with my biological mother and allow our family to move forward.

The comments praised his courage.

People congratulated Helena and reminded me that a child had every right to search for his biological parents.

Matthew never mentioned that he had already found her a year ago.

He never mentioned that he had continued calling me Mom while secretly building another family.

I stared at the photograph and remembered how ashamed he had always been of my work.

The convenience store paid little, but it was ten minutes from his school and fifteen minutes from our house.

Its owner allowed me to leave whenever the school nurse called.

That mattered more to me than the life my brother had repeatedly asked me to return to.

When Matthew was bullied in middle school, I could reach him before Robert finished a meeting.

When he developed a fever, I could change shifts and stay beside him all night.

I had chosen that job because it allowed me to be his mother.

Matthew only saw the uniform.

Once, when his classmates entered the store, they laughed and asked whether his family was so poor that his stepmother had to work behind a counter.

Matthew said nothing until we got home.

Then he complained that my coat smelled like coffee, fryer oil, and disinfectant.

I told myself he was only embarrassed because he was young.

Now I understood that the embarrassment had never disappeared.

I entered the bedroom and began packing.

In the bottom drawer, I found an old paper bracelet from the hospital where Matthew had spent his first night with a fever.

I had kept it for eighteen years.

I placed it back in the drawer.

For the first time, I wondered how many moments I had preserved that meant nothing to him.

Robert came in while I was closing the suitcase.

He walked past me and removed his golf clubs from the closet.

“Transfer five thousand dollars to Matthew before noon,” he said. “Helena is taking him to meet her family, and he cannot arrive looking unprepared.”

“I’m not paying for it.”

Robert finally turned around.

“Stop being dramatic. You’ll calm down and come back in a few days. Just make sure Matthew has what he needs before you go.”

He did not ask where I was staying.

He only cared that I completed one last task before leaving.

Matthew appeared at the bedroom door.

His eyes moved from my suitcase to the empty side of the closet.

For one second, I thought he might ask me to stay.

Instead, he said, “Did you finish my fellowship application?”

“No.”

His expression hardened.

“The deadline is today. Don’t use my future to punish me.”

“The files are in the family folder. Ask your parents to finish it.”

“Helena doesn’t know anything about the program.”

“Then this is a good time for her to learn.”

Matthew opened his mouth.

For a moment, something uncertain crossed his face.

Then Helena called his name from downstairs.

He turned and left without looking back.

I pulled my suitcase behind me and walked out of the house.

At the end of the driveway, I opened the contact I had never deleted.

My brother and I had exchanged occasional messages over the years, but I had not heard his voice since the day I chose Robert and left home.

I pressed Call.

He answered almost immediately.

“Lillian?”

He spoke softly, as though he was afraid the call might disappear.

“I don’t want to stay here anymore,” I said. “I want to come home.”

There was a long silence.

Then my brother answered, “You never stopped having one.”