I always believed my parents had given me the perfect childhood, filled with love and trust.
But one evening, while looking for old family photos in the attic, I stumbled upon a sealed letter.
What I read inside turned my entire world upside down and changed everything I thought I knew.
That evening felt peaceful, just like always when I came to my parents’ house for dinner on the weekends. Their home felt warm and safe.
The smell of Mom’s cooking filled the air, and soft music played in the background.
We sat at the kitchen table, laughing and remembering funny stories from my childhood.
While we were still talking, Mom mentioned the old photo albums she kept in the attic. “You should look through them,” she said.
“There are lots of sweet baby pictures.”
I smiled. “Maybe I’ll take a few home.”
After dinner, I went upstairs. The attic smelled like dust and cardboard.
I turned on the light and crouched near the boxes.
I found the albums and smiled at the photos of myself as a baby, riding on Dad’s shoulders, sitting in Mom’s lap.
Then I noticed a worn box pushed behind the others. At the very bottom, under wrapping paper and old cards, was an envelope. It was sealed.
On the front, in shaky handwriting, were the words: “For my daughter.”
My hands began to tremble. What was this? Why had I never seen it before?
I broke the seal and opened the letter.
“My beautiful baby girl,
I am so sorry.
You are only just born, and I already have to make the hardest choice of my life. I cannot keep you. I am too young, too lost, and too afraid to raise you alone.”
“But my love for you is endless.
Letting you go is not because I don’t want you — it’s because I want a better life for you than I could ever give. I hope the family who takes you in will love you the way you deserve. I will always carry you in my heart.
Always.
With all my love,
Your mother.”
I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened. My parents were downstairs.
What was this letter? I grabbed the envelope and stormed into the kitchen, holding it out to them.
“What is this?” My voice shook. I held out the letter with both hands.
My fingers would not stop trembling.
They turned to look at me. Mom’s face lost all its color. Dad’s jaw clenched hard.
They stared at me. Neither of them spoke.
“Well?” I asked again. My voice was louder this time.
Mom jumped to her feet.
She wrung her hands tightly. Her eyes were wide. “Emily… honey, I don’t know where you found that.
Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe—”
“Stop,” I cut her off. Dad’s voice came next.
His tone was steady but cold. He reached out. He took Mom’s hand and pulled her back into her chair.
His eyes met mine. His face was serious. “We have to tell her.”
My stomach dropped, and I felt like I was falling.
“Tell me what?” I asked.
My voice came out soft, and I barely heard myself.
Dad let out a long breath. “Emily… you are not our biological daughter.”
I felt like someone had hit me. I grabbed the table to keep from falling.
My knees were weak.
“What are you saying?” I asked. My voice was sharp.
Mom’s eyes filled with tears. She opened her mouth.
Her lips trembled. “We adopted you. You were just a few days old.
Your birth mother was 16. She couldn’t keep you. She wrote that letter after you were born.”
“No,” I said.
I shook
Doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page. Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
