I Found Out My Missing Son Was Adopted by Another Woman — Story of the Day
Two years had elapsed since my son vanished under mysterious circumstances. It was a story filled with unanswered questions. Then, recently, while on a business trip in a different city, I stumbled upon him on the street. This encounter only added new layers to the already bewildering mystery of his disappearance.
The steering wheel felt cold beneath my fingers, a stark contrast to the heated thoughts swirling in my head. Another city, another conference room, but all I could think of was the miles stretching out behind me – each one taking me further from home. My gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of my tired blue eyes before they returned to the road.
“Home is where you make it,” I whispered to myself, a mantra that had lost its comfort long ago. The hum of the engine and the occasional swoosh of passing cars were the only replies.
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As I neared the outskirts of town, a school came into view, with children milling about like ants at a picnic. That’s when I saw him. A boy with short, curly blonde hair, his back turned to me, jostling with other kids by the bus stop.
“Arnold?” The name escaped my lips before logic could catch it. My heart clenched, pulse pounding in my ears. It couldn’t be. But those curls, that posture – it was like looking at a ghost from my past.
The boy laughed, a sound I couldn’t hear through the closed windows but knew all too well. Or thought I did. He climbed onto the school bus, his figure framed for a moment in the doorway.
“Stop being crazy, Carla,” I scolded myself. How many boys out there had curly blonde hair? But something deep within me stirred, refusing to be stilled.
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Without thinking, my foot lifted off the brake, my hands turning the wheel to follow the yellow bus as it pulled away from the curb. All reason told me to head back to the hotel, but there was a magnetism to that bus, an invisible thread pulling me along.
“Could it really be you, Arnold?” I murmured, watching the bus navigate through the traffic.”Come on, Carla, focus,” I chided myself, trying to shake the hope that threatened to bloom in my chest. “You need to know for sure.”
And so, I followed, the bus leading me on a winding path through unfamiliar streets. The closer I got,...