Chapter 33

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Regina thought it would be too raw to speak with dad about adoption so soon, so she decided to talk to mom instead.

In the living room, Regina turned to mom, her brow furrowed in concentration, "Mom, I know that Clare and I are adopted."

Mom bit her lip, and closed her eyes. After a moment she opened them, full of resolve. She sat down on the couch, gesturing to Regina to seat as well. "Please, sit darling. It's time you know the truth."

Regina sat down slowly. Her limbs were trembling, and she clasped her hands to stop its shaking.

"Your father and I tried to have a baby for a long time. Years had passed, and we couldn't conceive. We made a pact, that if until my twenty-fifth birthday we don't conceive, we adopt. And on my birthday, we went to the foster home and filled necessary documents. Shortly after that, we've got a call, that there is a new-born, a girl, whose mother had died at childbirth and there were no other family members. We were so excited that we dropped everything and flew to the hospital. There was a tiny little bundle, all alone and crying in her crib. When I took her in her arms, she immediately stopped crying. It was love at first sight." Mom sighed with a smile, clearly remembering that day. "We took her home and started to raise her as our own. We've never even stopped and thought that she wasn't our blood daughter."

Regina's cheeks grew wet. Mom took her clasped hands in hers, and squeezed them, giving her cold limbs needed warmth.

Mom was looking at Regina, and she saw her eyes were full of liquid. Mom wanted to say more but was struggling to say even a word. Several times she opened her mouth, then closed it like she couldn't take enough breath for speech.

"Mom, it's okay," Regina croaked, tears were pouring down her face but she didn't care, "We can talk later."

But mom vehemently shook her head. She deeply inhaled, pinching her lips together. And then continued, "I had an older sister, Bridget," her voice cracked, but then she cleared her throat, and then the story flew out of her lips like a calm river. "She was working on UN missions and traveled around Africa to help people in ruined countries. She was a teacher and taught children to read and write. While being there, she'd met her husband, Kevin. He was a doctor from Sweden. After they married, they continued to move around Africa together. When Bridget became pregnant, I tried to convince her to come back home. She and her husband hadn't listened. Bridget told us that it was their home now and it was their mission to help others. They've been staying in a country where the civil war was going on at full blast, with a lot of opposing groups fighting each other. Until one day, when one of the armed groups came to the village where they lived and worked, and killed everyone. Except for one little child. A girl, who was sleeping in her crib," she paused. Familiar dark irises were looking down into Regina's soul. "It was you."

Regina's sobs burst out of her. Mom grabbed her shoulders and wrapped her arms around her. Regina clung to her, face buried in the side of her neck. Hot tears and muffled wails were coming out of Regina.

Regina remembered that mom had a sister who died a long time ago, but she rarely talked about her, because it was hurtful for her mom. Now she understood why. Her mom was her aunt, who raised her as her own daughter. And she didn't tell her this, saving her from heartbreak.

She cried for her dead mom, mourning her.

She cried for her real mom, who raised her, for keeping such a weight on her shoulders for the whole of her life.

She cried for herself, for how stupid and selfish she was. In one second she decided that her family was a lie and turned away from them, not giving in the details. But there was such a soul-wrenching pain behind this story. Not just for Regina, but everyone in her family.

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