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Years passed. I built my life with Rob and Lisa, discovered my passion for computers, graduated, and embarked on a career I'm proud of. Then Chloe's accident ended her gymnastics career, and suddenly my biological parents reappeared. They sent me cheerful holiday texts, then stuck me in church on Christmas Eve.
“Melody, you’re so beautiful,” my mother said, holding out her hand. I stepped back. “Excuse me, do I know you? My parents are home wrapping my presents.” Their faces fell, but I felt nothing. Later, they called asking for money, saying I owed them. I laughed. “I don’t owe you anything. Rob and Lisa raised me. I owe them everything.”
On New Year's Day, I sat at the table with my real family: Lisa's honey-glazed ham, Rob's burnt biscuits, laughter echoing through the house. And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt:
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