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“What truth?” I whispered.
Her voice cracked. “That you’re not my real mom. That you only adopted me because you made some promise to God. That I was… a backup.”
My heart broke in a way I hadn’t known was possible.
“Ruth,” I said, stepping forward, “that’s not—”
“Stop,” she cried. “Just stop. I heard everything. I was never chosen. I was just… saved.”
I sank onto the bed beside her, tears spilling freely.
“You were chosen,” I said. “Every single day.”
But she shook her head. “Stephanie said you always wanted her. That I was just… charity.”
The truth came out later. Stephanie hadn’t meant to be cruel—anger and jealousy had twisted her words. She had overheard a fragment of a conversation years ago and filled in the gaps with resentment she didn’t know she carried.
But the damage was done.
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