for me.
“I'm coming.” I rolled my eyes. I was knee-deep in a project. I carefully stepped over the paper and scissors and out the door. I rushed down the stairs.
“We need to have a talk.” My Mom patted the seat next to her.
“Okay.” I frowned.
“You know that I love you.” Mom’s voice was very careful.
“Yeah, sure I know that.” I nodded my head. “I love you too, Mom.” I didn't like where this was going.
“Well, I...” My Mom swallowed like she couldn't continue.
“What's wrong?” I leaned forward and patted her hand.
She pushed an envelope my way. I stared at it. I wasn't sure why she would be handing me an envelope. I took the envelope and opened the paper.
Mrs. Justice,
I am sorry to inform you that there was a mix-up at the hospital when your daughter was born. Annabeth wasn't born Annabeth Justice. She was born Anna Beatrice Poveste.
The birth parents would like to meet Annabeth. They are not pursuing custody at this time since she is 17, but they request a meeting this upcoming week.
Their email and phone number are below. They will be expecting to hear from you soon.
Grantington Hospital
My mouth went ajar. I stared at my mother blankly. My father had been in the military when I was born. He was killed in action when I was three. It's just been me and my Mom for years.
I didn't know what to say. I dropped the paper and sat there, stunned.
“I already called the hospital.” My Mom swallowed. “It's not a prank.”