My mother had spent twenty years pretending to be Sofia’s grandmother at home and her mother in public.
I was breathless.
“You stole my child,” I whispered.
My father looked down.
“We gave him a good life,” he said.
“A good life? “I shouted. “You have allowed me to carry an empty coffin in my heart for twenty years! »
Sofia began to cry.
She told me that she had always felt that something was wrong. My mother had finally confessed that she was not her biological mother, but she refused to reveal her identity.
I called Valentina.
When she arrived, as soon as the sisters saw each other, they froze.
It was like attending the long-awaited meeting of two unfinished souls.
They had the same smile. The same nervous mania of spinning a ring around their finger. Even their voices were similar.
Valentina walked up and stroked Sofia’s face.
“I always felt like I was missing someone,” she whispered.
Sofia held her in her arms.
That day I did not forgive my parents.
Some wounds are too deep for simple excuses, and some crimes cannot be erased by tears.
The truth came to erupt. The clinic records, the hidden documents and my mother’s confessions proved everything. My father had to face legal action, while my mother agreed to testify against all those responsible.
Sofia chose to leave the house with us.
As we crossed the rusty gate, my mother called me.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I was afraid of losing my husband. »
I turned around and looked at her.
“And because of that fear, you lost your two daughters. »
I then took Valentina’s hand in one hand and Sofia’s in the other.
I came back to show my parents what they had lost.
Instead, I found the girl they stole from me and finally brought her home.
