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I Was Adopted 17 Years Ago — On My 18th Birthday a Stranger Knocked on My Door and Said, ‘I’m Your Real Mother, Come with Me Before It’s Too Late’

On her 18th birthday, Emma’s world shatters when a stranger knocks on her door, claiming to be her real mother. Desperate for answers, she leaves everything behind… only to uncover a chilling truth. Was she stolen… or abandoned? And now that she holds the key to a fortune, who really wants her, and who just wants what she has?

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Growing up, I always knew I was adopted. My parents never hid it from me. It was just a fact, like my love for vanilla ice cream, brushing horses, or how I always needed a nightlight until I was twelve.

They told me I was chosen. That they had waited for years, hoping for a child, and when they found me, they loved me instantly.

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

And, of course, I believed them.

I had a good life. A warm home. Parents who never missed a soccer game, never forgot my birthday, never made me feel like anything less than their daughter.

They packed my school lunches, helped me with homework, and held me when I cried over my first heartbreak. And my mom and I used to cook dinner together every single day. It didn’t matter whether I was prepping for exams or whether I had a project.

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A mother and daughter duo in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A mother and daughter duo in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

It was… home. I was home.

I never once questioned where I came from.

But in the weeks leading up to my 18th birthday, something strange started happening.

It started with emails.

The first one came from an address I didn’t recognize.

Happy early birthday, Emma. I’ve been thinking about you. I’d love to talk.

A teenage girl using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

A teenage girl using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

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No name. No context. So, I ignored it.

Then came the Facebook friend request from a profile with no picture. The name was Sarah W. The request sat in my inbox, unanswered.

And then, the morning of my birthday, the knock came.

I almost didn’t answer. My parents were in the kitchen, making my special birthday breakfast, pancakes and bacon, just like every year. But something about the sound of that knock made my stomach clench.

A plate of pancakes and bacon | Source: Midjourney

A plate of pancakes and bacon | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t know why, but I felt like a bad omen was about to drop into our lives.

“You’ll get the door, honey?” Mom asked while she took over the bacon.

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“Sure, Mom,” I said, wiping my hands.

When I opened the door, I just knew that everything was about to change.

A woman stood on the porch, clutching the railing like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her blonde hair hung in messy waves, dark circles shadowing her sunken eyes. Her gaze landed on me, and she sucked in a sharp breath, like she had been holding it for years.

A woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney

“Emma?” she gasped.

“Yeah… who are you?” I hesitated.

Her throat bobbed, her lower lip trembled. And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said the words that truly changed everything, just as I’d felt seconds before.

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“I’m your mother.”

The floor beneath me felt unsteady.

“Your real mother,” she added, stepping closer.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A cold, twisting sensation curled in my stomach.

No. Nope. No way.

This had to be a mistake.

“I know this is a shock,” she said, her voice raw and uneven. “But please, Emma. Please listen to me.”

I should have shut the door then. I should have called for my parents to deal with this person. But I didn’t. I couldn’t move.

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A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

Because the look in her eyes… it wasn’t just desperation. It was sorrow. Regret. And a kind of longing that seeped into my bones just by standing across from her.

“Your adoptive parents… they lied to you,” she said, wiping her forehead with the back of her palm.

My entire body went rigid.

“They tricked me, Emma. And then they stole you from me!” she said, grabbing my hands, her grip trembling.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

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“What on earth are you talking about?” I asked.

Tears welled in her eyes as she pulled a folder from her bag, shoving a stack of papers into my hands.

I glanced down, not knowing what to expect.

Birth records. My actual birth records.

And there, beneath a large block of text, was a signature.

Her name.

A woman holding a folder | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a folder | Source: Midjourney

“I never wanted to give you up, Emmie,” she whispered. “That’s what I used to call you when you were in my belly. I was young and scared, but they convinced me I wasn’t good enough. That you’d be better off without me. They manipulated me, and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

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I looked back at the papers. My hands shook. My brain felt frozen.

Emmie?

Could it be true?

A teenage girl with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney

A teenage girl with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney

Had my parents, my parents, lied to me? All my life?

She squeezed my hands tighter.

“Just give me a chance, love. Come with me. Let me show you the life you were meant to have.”

I should have said no. I should have slammed the door in her face.

Right?

But I didn’t.

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A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Because some part of me, some small, broken part, needed to know.

I told Sarah that I would meet her at a diner.

Later, I stood in the living room, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might shake the floor beneath me. My parents sat across from me, their faces open, expectant. They were still smiling, still happy, still clueless about the bomb I was about to drop.

A woman sitting in a diner | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a diner | Source: Midjourney

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“Ready for the cake and ice cream?” my mother asked.

I swallowed. My throat was so dry it felt like sandpaper.

“Something happened this morning,” I said.

My mom’s smile faded first.

My dad set down his coffee.

Cake and ice cream on a table | Source: Midjourney

Cake and ice cream on a table | Source: Midjourney

“What is it, sweetheart?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. God, how was I supposed to say this?

I forced the words out.

“A woman came to the house.”

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They both went rigid.

“She… she said she’s my biological mother.”

The air in the room shifted.

A couple sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A couple sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

My mom’s hand tightened around the edge of the couch, her knuckles going white. My dad’s face became stone, like someone had sucked all the warmth out of him in an instant.

Neither of them spoke.

“She told me that…” My voice wavered. I steadied myself. “She told me that you lied. That you tricked her into giving me up.”

My mother let out a shaky breath, and something about it, something about the sheer hurt in the sound, made my stomach twist.

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An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

“Emma,” she said. “That is absolutely not true.”

“Then why did she say it?” I asked.

Dad exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled like he was trying to keep himself together.

“Because she knew it would get to you.”

I shook my head.

A teenage girl standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A teenage girl standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

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“You don’t know that.”

“Emma, we do,” my mom’s voice broke, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “We knew this day might come. We just didn’t think it would be like this.”

She reached for my hand, but I pulled back. She flinched like I had hit her.

“I just…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She wants to get to know me. And I think I want to know her too.”

Silence.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

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