After discovering she couldn’t have children, Annie’s doctor gave her another option: adoption, which led to a daughter named Abiona. The girl couldn’t speak French at first. But when she learned enough, she confided in Annie a secret that changed everything.
Annie sat anxiously in Dr. Martinez’s office, surrounded by posters of happy families. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with a comforting demeanor, invited her to sit down.
Smiling, Annie asked, “When can we start the fertilization procedure?”
Dr. Martinez took a deep breath before saying, “Unfortunately, tests show you can’t have children. I’m so sorry.”
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Annie’s heart sank. Although she considered IVF, the doctor advised against it due to the low success rates and high risks. But she suggested an alternative—adoption—and gave Annie a booklet filled with information and photos of children in need of homes.
***
Annie sat at her kitchen table, the calm of her home surrounding her as she leafed through the booklet. She was drawn to the picture of a baby, fascinated by its innocent, smiling face.
With trembling hands, she picked up the phone and called the adoption agency to schedule an appointment. A few days later, she met Caitlin, a social worker, who welcomed Annie into her modest office. “Sorry you had to wait,” she told her, shaking her head.
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Annie replied, hiding her nervousness.
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They sat down and discussed Annie’s career, her family life, and her desire to adopt. “Can you dedicate enough time to a child? It’s not just a few hours a day,” Caitlin asked.
Annie replied, “Yes, I understand. I am willing to make sacrifices for my child.”
“Adoption can be difficult, especially at first,” Caitlin continued, but ultimately, she approved Annie’s request.
“I understand,” Annie said, her voice firm. “Thank you.”
***
The next morning, Caitlin’s call interrupted Annie’s breakfast. “Hello, Annie?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s me,” Annie replied.
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“We’ve found a child for you,” the social worker revealed, referring to Abiona, a six-year-old from Congo who didn’t speak French. “Would you like to meet her today?”
“6 years old? Doesn’t she speak French? I… I need to think about all this,” Annie replied.
“Sure, take all the time you need. Have a good day,” Caitlin replied, but Annie heard her sigh before hanging up.
Annie spent the rest of the day mulling over the idea of adopting a six-year-old. Motherhood usually begins with a baby, so jumping straight into raising an older child seemed… strange. However, this might be her only chance.
She called Caitlin the next day to tell her she agreed, and the social worker arranged to meet with Abiona, who was living with a foster family.
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***
Arriving at the shelter, Annie knocked on the door, her heart pounding. She was greeted by a woman who, in a not-so-friendly tone, said, “Hello, how are you?”
“Hello, I’m Annie,” she replied, waving slightly. “I came to see Abiona.”
The woman brought Annie in, and it was hard not to notice the chaotic scene in her house. Children were running around, the television was blaring, and the living room was full of things.
But the woman pointed to a corner where Abiona was sitting, quietly drawing. “That’s her. Good luck because she doesn’t talk to anyone,” she said, and went off to scold other children.
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Annie approached the little girl, who briefly met her gaze before resuming her drawing. “Did you draw these yourself? They’re beautiful,” she asked, kneeling down to take a closer look.
Abiona gave a slight nod without speaking.
The adoptive mother interrupted her. “Don’t even try. She doesn’t understand a word of French,” she said. Annie looked up to see her wearing a superior expression.
“Very good,” said Annie, concentrating entirely on the little girl. She sat down next to her and began to draw too, trying to communicate through pictures.
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She drew a house and a long-haired person, saying, “This is my house. I live here. Do you want to live with me?”
The girl stared at the paper for a second, then at Annie’s face, before drawing a smaller figure next to her own. This gesture made Annie smile as her stomach fluttered.
***
She brought Abiona home and showed her her cozy new room. The little girl remained silent and observant as she explored everything.
When she found paints and brushes lying around, she immediately began drawing, looking cheerful. Annie watched her for a second, enjoying the moment. I’m finally a mom , she thought before joining her new daughter.
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Over the next few months, Annie tried to teach Abiona French, but traditional methods were overwhelming. So she adapted her approach, using drawing sessions to teach her the language in a fun and engaging way.
Abiona responded positively, gradually learning words and phrases.
One day, while exploring the concept of family through a picture book, Annie pointed to an illustration and said, “See, that’s a family,” then referred to herself as “Mom,” and Abiona as “Daughter.”
But instead of nodding in understanding, Abiona’s reaction was unexpected: she burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?” Annie asked, patting the girl’s head.
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Abiona grabbed some of her drawings. “I have Mom and Dad,” she revealed, pointing at the paper. Annie’s eyes widened. She didn’t understand, because Caitlin had never mentioned Abiona’s family.
“What are you talking about, darling?” she asked.
“Bad… bad men took me away from Mom and Dad,” the girl continued.
“Okay, okay,” Annie said, her voice becoming low and soothing. “Tell me more.”
In her broken French, Abiona explained that the bad men had kidnapped her, but that afterward she was with the police. She showed Annie a handmade toy, her only reminder of her biological mother.
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“I’m small. I don’t know Mom’s face. But Mom smells like honey. She gave it to me,” Abiona finished, biting her lower lip and looking away to wipe away a tear.
Annie breathed heavily, trying to contain her own emotions. A six-year-old shouldn’t have to be so strong on her own . She hugged the little girl, who began to sob in her arms. The revelation of this secret strengthened their bond.
***
Months later, Abiona suffered a violent coughing fit during the night. Annie rushed her to the hospital as quickly as possible. “I need help! My daughter, she can’t breathe!” she yelled at the emergency room staff.
The medical team quickly attended to her daughter, leaving Annie to wait anxiously outside the examination room. Soon, her condition stabilized, but she was surrounded by beeping machines, which only made things more frightening. But the absolute horror came a few hours later, as the staff ran several tests.
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A doctor entered the room, took a deep breath, and began to speak. “I’m so sorry to tell you this. But Abiona is terminally ill. She only has a few days left.”
Her words were careful, but they pierced Annie like a knife. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What’s wrong with her?”
The doctor explained her condition. He mentioned a complicated name that Annie didn’t understand because her mind was clouded by what she had just learned.
“Should I have noticed sooner? She looked healthy. I adopted her a few months ago. No one said anything to me.”
“There’s not much you could have done even if you had noticed something. It’s a genetic disease, and it manifests itself in very unexpected ways. It’s not your fault,” the doctor finished, patting him on the shoulder, and left.
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***
Abiona woke up an hour later.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Annie whispered, squeezing the little girl’s hand. “Do you need anything? Something I can do for you?”
Abiona’s voice was weak but clear. “I want to see my mom,” she whispered, a longing look in her eyes.
Annie agreed and, determined to make her wish come true, left the hospital with Abiona’s handmade toy, hoping it held clues to finding her biological mother. She went to the police station, where they agreed to identify the toy through testing.
Miraculously, they found a match and gave Annie the biological mother’s contact information. Her name was Tendey. Although the call went unanswered, Annie insisted on finding Abiona’s mother, even if she had to do it in person.
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She went to Tendey’s address, plucked up her courage, and knocked on the door. When a woman appeared, Annie introduced herself and asked, “Tendey?”
The woman answered quickly, impatiently. “Yes. It’s me, but I don’t want to join your god. I don’t need any services and I don’t want to buy anything,” she said, almost closing the door.
But Annie raised her arm and stopped her. “It’s about Abiona,” she said sharply. “She’s currently in the hospital. The doctor said she has a serious genetic disease and only has a few days to live.”
Annie thought Tendey would be saddened, but the woman instead crossed her arms. “I abandoned her. Voluntarily. I gave up my parental rights. So anything about her is no longer my problem,” Tendey stated coldly.
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“Please. She’s your daughter. She’s dying and wants to see you,” Annie pleaded.
Tendey shook his head. “Listen. I don’t want to see her. Deal with it.”
Looking beyond Tendey, into her house, Annie sighed and noticed something. “Do you sell perfumes? Do you have one that smells like honey?”
“Ugh, yes,” Tendey said, looking behind her in confusion.
“How much?” Annie asked.
***
At home, Annie researched on her computer, typing as her plan fully came together. She searched for an actress who looked like Tendey and found Sarah. Annie called her and explained the situation.
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Sarah was touched. “Okay. It’s a strange request, but I see it comes from a good heart, so I’ll do it,” she said. Annie provided all the details she knew about Abiona and her mother.
The next day, in the hospital room, Annie and the actress prepared to grant Abiona’s final wish. Sprayed with honey perfume, Sarah approached the girl’s bedside, gently holding her small hand.
“Abiona, this is your mom,” Annie introduced gently.
Abiona, whose condition had worsened so much in just one day, easily believed Annie’s words. “You smell just like Mommy,” the girl whispered, and opened her arms for a hug.
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Sarah, forced, told him: “It’s because I’m a mother.”
Abiona turned to Annie. “Thank you,” she whispered before falling asleep again. Sarah left a little later when it became clear the girl wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.
As the sun set, Annie watched over her daughter. Her breathing was too heavy, but that had been the norm for the past few hours. She whispered to her, bringing comfort and reassurance in the quiet room filled with the soft beeping of machines.
She touched the girl’s head at one point and noticed the intense heat. In her weakened state, Abiona weakly whispered “Mama” before falling unconscious again. Annie rushed to find her doctor, who came in, performed a quick examination, and breathed out with her head bowed.
“I’m afraid this is the end,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” Annie wailed, hugging her child.
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Abiona slept a little more soundly in Annie’s arms, but love wasn’t always enough. She breathed her last after midnight.
As the tears began to flow freely, Annie whispered, “You were loved. So loved. I will continue to love you forever.”
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