"It took desperation. I couldn't live with not knowing. With wondering what she'd say. Now I know. And it doesn't change anything. She's still the woman who sold me. I'm still the woman who survived."
"Are you okay?"
"I will be. I just need I need to hold Sofia. To remind myself what a real mother looks like."
Sofia was in the living room, doing homework. She looked up when I came in.
"Mama! Can you help me with this math problem? I don't understand fractions."
Such a normal request. Such a beautifully ordinary moment.
I sat down beside her. "Show me what you're working on."
We spent the next hour on fractions. On normal, mundane, perfect parent-child interaction.
This was what my mother had given up. This. These moments.
And I felt sorry for her. For everything she'd lost by selling me.
But mostly, I felt grateful. That I'd been given a second chance at family. At motherhood. At doing it right.
Dr. Rodriguez called five days later.
