I sat beside her.
“Did you find anything?”
She nodded.
“My birth date matches.”
I felt my heartbeat quicken.
“And the hospital?”
“The same one in Margaret's photograph.”
We looked at each other.
Mom took a shaky breath.
“Emma, I want to know.”
I squeezed her hand.
“Then we can find out.”
She looked toward Mrs. Wilson's house.
“What if it's true?”
I smiled gently.
“Then we have some things to talk about.”
“And what if it isn't?”
“Then Margaret is still the woman who helped raise me. And you're still my mother.”
Mom began crying.
I hugged her.
A few days later, with everyone's consent, they arranged an independent DNA test.
The results would confirm whether Mrs. Wilson and Mom were biologically related.
During the waiting period, something beautiful happened.
They began talking.
Not just about the possibility of being mother and daughter.
About their lives.
Mom told Margaret stories about the parents who raised her.
