The Attic Search I’d Avoided for Three Years
I didn’t message Hannah right away.
I couldn’t.
What would I even say?
Hi, I look exactly like you, but I’ve never been pregnant?
Instead, I did something I’d been avoiding for years.
I went up to the attic.
My mother passed away three years ago.
After the funeral, I shoved boxes up there and told myself I’d go through them “eventually.”
Eventually became three years of avoidance.
That night, with a flashlight and shaky hands, I tore through everything.
- Photo albums
- Old journals with grocery lists and garden notes
- Medical records
- Report cards
- Birthday cards I’d made as a kid
Nothing explained Hannah.
My back ached from hunching over boxes.
I was about to give up when I saw a smaller box shoved in the far corner.
It was sealed with yellowed tape.
On the side, in my mother’s faded handwriting, was one date:
1974.
The year I was born.
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