Chapter 2
The whole room seemed to go still.
I stood there, her hands warm against my cheeks, my heart hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears.
Daughter.
I’d grown up in foster care. I’d never known my parents. Never had anyone call me theirs.
"You..." I stammered. "You’re my mother?"
She nodded, unable to speak at first. She pulled a faded photograph from her purse and pressed it into my hand.
In it lay a newborn baby girl, swaddled in white. On her tiny wrist, clearly visible, was the same three-pointed star.
"I named you Stella," she whispered. "You were stolen from me outside our home. Twenty years ago. I have searched every single day since then."
Stella.
I repeated the name softly. It felt like coming home.
"I don’t remember," I said, tears spilling over. "But I’ve always carried this charm. I’ve always felt... like I belonged somewhere else."
She wrapped her arms around me then, pulling me close.
"You belong with me now," she said. "I promise. I will never let you go again."
Her name was Eleanor. She drove me away from the hotel in a sleek silver car, holding my hand the whole way.
She told me about the life I was born into. About the family I’d lost. About the father who had died believing he’d never see me again.
And then she brought me to the house.
May you like
It stood grand and beautiful on a hill overlooking the city. But inside, it felt empty. Quiet. Waiting.
"It’s been waiting for you," Eleanor said softly. "Just like me."
