My adopted son stared at his birthday cake in silence. Then, tears rolled down his cheeks. “My birthday was yesterday,” he whispered. My stomach dropped—the documents said today. What else had been kept from me?
“Do you want a boy or a girl?”
“I just want to be a mom.”
It was the only thing I knew for sure. I wasn’t the woman who dreamed of matching family pajamas or making homemade baby food. But I knew I could be the kind of mother who would change someone’s life.
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Well, that person was Joey.
He didn’t know it was that day. Weeks before, during each visit, he would move closer to me, his small hands curling into the hem of my sweater, his dark eyes fixed on mine. A silent question: “When?”
That day, I held a stuffed dinosaur as I walked into the foster home. Big, soft, with funny little arms. The second Joey spotted it, his fingers twitched, but it didn’t move. I knelt beside it.
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“Well, Joey, are you ready to go home?”
He looked at me, then he looked at the dinosaur.
“We’ll never come back here?”
“Never. I promise you.”
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A pause. Then, slowly, he extended his hand to me.
“Okay. But just so you know, I don’t eat green beans.”
I held back a smile.
“Noted.”
And that’s how I became a mother. I knew the adjustment period wouldn’t be easy, but I had no idea how many secrets Joey carried from his past.
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***
Joey’s birthday was a week after he moved in.
I wanted to make it special. His first real birthday in his new home. Our first real celebration as a family.
I’ve got it all planned out. Balloons, streamers, a mountain of gifts—nothing too overwhelming, just enough to make him feel loved.
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The day started perfectly.
We made pancakes together in the kitchen, and by made , I mean we turned the kitchen into an absolute disaster zone.
Flour dusted the floor and even the tip of Joey’s nose. He chuckled as he sent a cloud into the air and watched it swirl like a blizzard.
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“Are we making pancakes or are we just trying to redecorate the kitchen?” I teased him.
“Both,” he said proudly, stirring the dough.
He looked comfortable. Maybe even safe. And that’s what makes all the mess worth it.
After breakfast, we moved on to gifts. I wrapped each one carefully, choosing things I thought he would like: figurines, dinosaur books, and a giant toy T-rex.
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Joey unwrapped them slowly. But instead of lighting up, his enthusiasm seemed to wane.
“Do you like them?” I asked, keeping my voice light.
“Yes. They’re cool.”
It wasn’t exactly the reaction I expected.
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And then the cake arrived. I lit the candle and gave it a smile.
“All right, party king, it’s time to make a wish.”
Joey didn’t move. He wasn’t smiling. He just sat there, staring at the candle as if it weren’t real.
“Honey?” I pushed the plate towards him. “It’s your day. Come on, make a wish.”
Her lower lip trembled. Her hands curled into fists.
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“It’s not my birthday.”
I blinked. “What?”
“My birthday was yesterday.”
“But… the documents say today is your birthday,” I whispered to myself.
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“They made a mistake. My brother and I always celebrated our birthdays together. But I was born before midnight, so we had two birthdays. That’s what Grandma Vivi said.”
It was the first time he’d spoken about his past. The first time I’d even had a glimpse of his previous life. I swallowed and blew out the candle, sliding into the chair next to him.
“Your brother?”
Joey nodded, tracing a circle on the table with his finger.
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“Yes. His name is Tommy.”
“But… I had no idea. I’m sorry, darling.”
Joey lets out a small sigh and puts down his spoon.
“I remember our birthdays. The last time, I was four, and so was he. Grandma Vivi gave us two separate parties. With friends. And then… they took me away.”
Just a year ago. His memories are still fresh. His wounds are still open.
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“I wish I was with him right now,” Joey whispers.
I grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “Joey…”
He didn’t look at me. Instead, he quickly rubbed his eyes and stood up.
“I’m a little tired.”
“Okay. Let’s get some sleep.”
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I tucked him in during the day, feeling the exhaustion in his little body.
As I turned to leave, he reached under his pillow and pulled out a small wooden box.
“My treasure box.”
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He opened it and took out a folded piece of paper, which he handed to me.
“This is the place. Grandma Vivi always took us here.”
I unfolded it. A simple drawing. A lighthouse. I gasped.
And just like that, instead of focusing on building our future, I realized I needed to heal Joey’s past first.
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***
Finding this lighthouse was more difficult than I thought.
The next day, I stared at my laptop screen, rubbing my forehead as pages and pages of search results flooded the screen.
Google didn’t care about Joey’s drawing or the memories attached to it. It just spit out lists: tourist attractions, historical landmarks, even abandoned lighthouses.
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“There must be a way to narrow down the list.”
I took another look at the drawing. A simple lighthouse, shaded with careful pencil strokes, and a single tree beside it. That tree was the key.
I adjusted the search filters, narrowed the location to our state, and scrolled through image after image until…
“That’s it!”
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I turned the laptop over. “Joey, does this ring a bell?”
He leaned forward, his little fingers brushing the edge of the screen. His eyes widened.
“This is the place.”
“Okay, buddy. Let’s go on an adventure.”
“Yeah! It’s a real one!”
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***
The next day I prepared sandwiches, drinks and a blanket.
“We might not find it right away,” I warned. “But we’ll have fun trying.”
Joey didn’t seem to hear me. He was already putting on his sneakers, his enthusiasm making his movements faster than usual.
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On the road, he clung to his drawing, absentmindedly tracing the lines as we drove. I put on an audiobook about dinosaurs, but I could see his mind was elsewhere.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“What if she doesn’t remember me?”
I reached out and shook her hand. “How could she forget?”
He didn’t answer.
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***
The small coastal town was bustling with weekend tourists. People busied themselves among antique shops and seafood stands, the salty air mingling with the smell of fried food.
I slowed the car, glancing at Joey.
“Let’s ask someone.”
Before I could park, Joey leaned out the window, waving frantically at a woman passing by.
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“Hello! Do you know where my grandmother Vivi lives?”
The woman stopped mid-walk, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at him, then back at me.
“Here we are,” I whispered, preparing myself for suspicion.
But to my surprise, the woman pointed down the road.
“Oh, you mean old Vivi! She lives in the yellow house by the cliffs. You can’t miss her.”
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Joey turned to me, his eyes wide.
“That’s it! That’s where she lives!”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“I guess we found her.”
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***
The house sat on the edge of a rocky cliff, the lighthouse from Joey’s drawing looming in the distance. I parked, glancing at Joey.
“Do you want to wait here while I talk?”
He nodded, clutching his drawing tightly. I walked to the door and knocked.
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A moment later, it creaked open, revealing an old woman with bright eyes and silver hair pulled back in a loose bun. She was holding a cup of tea, her gaze wary.
“What do you want ?”
“Are you Vivi?”
She didn’t answer right away.
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“Who’s asking?”
“My name is Kayla. My son, Joey, is in the car. He’s looking for…” I hesitated, not wanting to sound too dramatic. “His brother. Tommy.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
“There are no brothers here.”
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“Oh, I’m sorry…”
Then, suddenly, Joey appeared next to me.
“Grandma Vivi!” He held up his drawing. “I brought Tommy a present!”
Vivi clutched her teacup. Her face hardened.
“You should leave.”
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Joey’s face fell.
“Please,” I said softly. “He just wants to see his brother.”
“You shouldn’t dig up the past.”
And then, without another word, she closed the door.
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***
I stood there for a moment, anger, confusion, and sadness swirling inside me. I wanted to strike again, make her talk and demand answers. But I couldn’t.
Joey stared at the door. His small shoulders slumped. I crouched down beside him.
“I’m so sorry, darling.”
He didn’t cry. Instead, he breathed slowly and carefully placed the drawing on the doorstep.
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Then, without another word, he turned and walked back to the car. My heart was breaking. I started the engine and drove away from the house. I was already blaming myself for bringing him there. For getting his hopes up.
But then…
“Joey! Joey!”
A blur of movement in the rearview mirror.
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Joey’s head snaps up.
“Tommy?”
I braked just as a boy, identical to Joey, ran towards us, arms swollen, gasping for air. Before I could stop him, Joey opened the door and started running.
They crushed against each other, squeezing so tightly I thought they would never let go. I covered my mouth, overwhelmed.
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Behind them, Vivi stood in the doorway, one hand pressed to her chest, her eyes shining.
Then, slowly, she raised her hand and gave a slight nod. An invitation. I swallowed and turned off the car. We weren’t leaving just yet.
***
Later, Vivi stirred her tea, her eyes fixed on Joey and Tommy, who were sitting shoulder to shoulder, whispering as if they had never been apart. Finally, Vivi spoke.
“When the boys were one year old, their parents died in a car accident.”
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I tensed up. I didn’t know that. Vivi’s gaze remained on her tea.
“I wasn’t young. I wasn’t strong. I didn’t have money. I had to make a choice.”
She looked up at me.
“So I kept the one that looked like my son. And I let the other one go.”
My breath caught.
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“The birthday party. It was goodbye. I thought it was the right thing to do. But I was wrong.”
A long silence fell between us. Then Joey crossed the table and placed his small hand on hers.
“It’s okay, Grandma Vivi. I found Mom.”
Vivi’s lips trembled. Then, with a shaky exhale, she squeezed his hand.
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From that moment on, we made a decision. The boys would never be separated again.
Joey and Tommy moved in with me. And every weekend, we went back to the lighthouse, to the little house on the cliff where Grandma Vivi always waited for us.
Because family isn’t about perfect choices. It’s about finding your way back to each other.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
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