“I remembered my old school,” she continued. “So I stole some money and called a cab while they were napping.”
“You did the right thing,” I said.
The next day, I went to the police.
I brought hospital records. Transfer documents. And a recording I had secretly made of Neil’s confession.
“This involves fraud and unlawful adoption,” the detective said carefully.
“I want him charged,” I replied.
By that afternoon, Neil was arrested.
I felt no pity.
The illegal adoption unraveled quickly. The couple claimed they were never told I existed. The court moved to restore full custody.
Weeks later, I filed for divorce.
Grace and I moved back home.
And this time, I read every document. I asked every question. I stood in every doorway.
Grief once taught me how to survive the unthinkable.
Now it taught me something else.
A mother’s fight doesn’t end.
And this time, I was strong enough to win.
