The man’s face grew paler and paler.
The assistant who rushed into the room also froze.
They looked at me as if they were seeing something impossible.
And I didn’t understand anything.
– What’s happening? I asked.
No one answered.
The millionaire slowly stood up.
His gaze kept shifting between me and the photograph.
– WHAT IS YOUR MOTHER’S NAME?
– Anna.
The man nearly lost his balance.
– That can’t be…
– Do you know her?
After my question, a long silence followed.
Finally, he walked over to the desk and sat down.
As if he had suddenly aged twenty years.
– THE WOMAN IN THAT PICTURE… IS MY SISTER.
My heart skipped a beat.
– What?
– She disappeared thirty years ago.
The assistant closed her eyes.
It was clear she had known the story for a long time.
– The whole family searched for her.
– Then why does she look so much like my mother?
The man did not answer immediately.
Instead, he took out an old photo album.
It was full of pictures of the same woman.
And with every page, she looked more and more like my mother.
My stomach tightened.
– This is impossible.
– I thought so too.
Then the man pulled out an old letter.
It was worn out.
The paper had turned yellow with age.
– This is what my sister left behind the day she disappeared.
With trembling hands, he unfolded it.
Inside, one sentence was heavily underlined:
“If I ever return, I hope you will forgive me for having to take my child with me.”
The room’s air froze.
– Her child? I whispered.
The man nodded.
– Back then, no one knew she was pregnant.
My legs trembled.
– You mean…
– I don’t know.
– But it might be…
– Yes.
Tears filled my eyes.
My mother had never spoken about her past.
Never.
She always said the important things were in the present.
Now I was beginning to understand why.
The millionaire immediately called a car.
An hour later, we were standing in front of our small apartment.
When my mother opened the door and saw the man, the medicine cup fell from her hand.
His eyes filled with tears.
– Anna…
My mother’s face went pale.
– Adrian?
The next moment, they both started crying.
They were siblings.
Truly siblings.
Separated for decades.
By misunderstandings.
Lies.
And a family tragedy.
That night they talked for hours.
And I learned the truth.
My mother had run away from an abusive relationship when she was young.
She feared for her unborn child.
For me.
That’s why she disappeared.
She changed her name.
And started a new life.
And she never dared to contact her family again.
But now everything had changed.
The family I thought didn’t exist suddenly became real.
We no longer had to worry about medicine.
But money wasn’t the most important thing.
What mattered was that my mother was no longer alone.
And neither was I.
Because on the day I tried to sell oranges to buy her medicine…
I found something far more valuable.
A lost family.
