For a moment, I’m completely speechless.
Oh, God. Oh, God. She looks just like me.
Red, curly hair. Freckles. She’s wearing a tank top and pajama bottoms, lazy weekend clothes, and her hair is pulled back in a knot behind her head. She’s an inch or two taller than me, and her pale face is slightly wrinkled, but apart from that, she could be my older sister. My throat tightens.
This is her. This is the woman who called me Bethany. Who carried me for nine months. Who gave birth to me.
The woman who didn’t want me in her life. Who never checked up on me. Who never asked to meet me.
When I don’t say anything, she tilts her head, smiling politely. “Yes? Can I help you?”
I open my mouth. “Hi,” I manage, my voice squeaking.
She frowns. “Sorry, do I know you?”
“Yes.” I swallow. “I’m Bethany.”
“Bethany who?” She squints at me. “I don’t remember any Bethanies.”
“Bethany Sarah Ellis.” I say the words carefully, pronouncing every syllable.
The smile drops right off her face. Her cheeks go white. “What?” She whispers.
I give her a weak grin. “Hi, Sarah.”
For a few moments, we just stare at each other. Her brown eyes rove over me, drinking in my appearance. “Wh-what are you doing here?” She stutters.
I shrug. “Um. I was in the area. Just thought I’d check in.” I clear my throat. “Um. Can I come in?”
Her eyes widen. “What? No! Oh my God, no, you have to leave!”
Hurt pangs through my stomach. “What?”
“Is it a door salesman, honey?” A man’s voice calls from behind her. “Need some help getting rid of him?”
Sarah grips the doorframe, fear flooding her face. “It’s nothing, Carl,” she calls over her shoulder. “Just someone who needs directions.”
I gape at her. She steps out into the driveway and slams the door behind her. “You have toleave,” she repeats. “Now!”
“But—”
Her pretty face pinkens with anger. “What made you think this was okay?”She hisses. “I have a family now! I have a husband, and kids, and a house—I’ve finally got my life sorted out! Do you want to come and ruin it again? What do you want from me?”
“I—”
She pats down her pockets. “You want money? I’ll wire you as much as you need, if you justleave now—”
Tears press against the back of my eyes. This isn’t what I expected at all. Back when I was a kid, the social workers at the home always told meyour mum loves you so much. She just can’t take care of you, right now.And I believed them. I had to. That thought kept me going. I always assumed that my mum still wanted me. That if we met again, she’d still feelsomeconnection to me. If I were in her shoes, I’m sure I’d love my kid until the day I died, even after I gave them up for adoption.
But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t even want to invite me in for a fucking cup of tea.
“I didn’t ruin your life,” I say quietly. Anger is simmering under my skin. Years of sadness and heartbreak are bubbling up inside me.
She laughs. The sound is slightly hysterical. “I had everything, before you came along. My boyfriend, my future, my career—I had to give that all up as a teenager, because ofyou. You don’t get to come back and fuck shit up again, when I’m finallyhappy,for God’s sake.” The squeals of young children float from the back garden, and she winces. “Soplease,just go—”
Something in me snaps. “Fuck you!” I shout. My voice echoes around the quiet, well-manicured drive, making her jump. “I didn’t ruin your life! It’snot my faultI wasborn.That wasyour decision. Yours!If you hated me that much, why didn’t you just get rid of me?”
“I did the best thing I could for you!” She snaps back. “I was akid,I couldn’t give you a family. So I gave you up, so a new family could take you in! I did the right thing! Now, for the love of God, just—”