Chương 7
Clara wiped her tears.
"Then why didn't anyone tell me?"
Margaret whispered.
"Because by then, I was afraid of losing you."
Clara looked at her.
"You were afraid?"
Margaret nodded.
"You were my daughter."
The words were painful.
Because they were both true.
Margaret had failed her.
But Margaret had also loved her.
Clara did not know how to hold both realities at the same time.
David moved closer to his sister.
The word still felt strange to him.
Sister.
But now he understood.
She was not just someone his mother raised.
She was someone who had been searching for her own story.
"We need to find him," David said.
Margaret looked surprised.
"David."
"No."
His voice was firm.
"You spent years making decisions for everyone."
He looked at Clara.
"This time, she decides."
Clara looked at him.
For the first time that day, she felt someone standing beside her instead of speaking for her.
She looked back at Margaret.
"Where can I find Thomas?"
Margaret remained silent.
Then she walked toward another drawer.
She opened it.
Inside was a small piece of paper.
An address.
Clara stared at it.
A simple piece of paper.
A location.
A connection to a life she never knew existed.
Margaret held it for a moment.
Then she handed it to Clara.
"I kept this because I always hoped you would be ready."
Clara took it.
Her fingers trembled.
She looked at the address.
She had spent years wondering where she belonged.
Now the answer was somewhere she could actually go.
Evelyn watched her carefully.
"Are you ready to meet him?"
Clara looked at the paper.
Then at the people around her.
Her past.
Her pain.
Her family.
"I don't know."
And for the first time that day, she allowed herself to say the truth.
"But I know I need to."
The room remained quiet as Clara folded the paper carefully and held it in her hand.
The next step is to continue with the following segment, where Clara faces the first meeting with the father she never knew.
Clara held the piece of paper in her hand for a long time.
The address was only a few lines of ink.
A street name.
A city.
A number.
But to her, it felt heavier than anything she had ever held.
It represented a person.
A person who had existed somewhere in the world while she grew up wondering why part of her life felt unfinished.
David watched her carefully.
He could see the conflict in her face.
She wanted answers.
But answers meant facing everything she had spent years imagining.
"What are you thinking?" he asked quietly.
Clara looked at him.
"I don't know."
It was the most honest answer she could give.
"I spent my whole life wondering if there was something wrong with me."
David shook his head.
"There was never anything wrong with you."
Clara looked down.
"Then why did everyone hide so much from me?"
Nobody answered.
Because nobody could.
Margaret stood across the room, silent.
For once, she was not trying to control what happened next.
She was allowing Clara to decide.
That alone felt different.
"I want to go," Clara said.
Margaret looked up.
"Today?"
Clara nodded.
"I don't want another night wondering."
David immediately stepped forward.
Clara looked surprised.
"You don't have to."
"I know."
He paused.
"But I want to."
The simple words meant more than he realized.
For years, Clara had felt like she was carrying everything alone.
Now someone was choosing to stand beside her.
Evelyn watched them quietly.
"You should know something before you meet him."
Clara turned toward her.
"What?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"Thomas never stopped looking for you."
Clara looked away.
"How do you know?"
"Because I saw him."
The room became quiet.
"When?"
"Many times."
Clara's expression changed.
"You saw him?"
Evelyn nodded.
"After your mother passed away, he spent years trying to find answers."
Margaret looked uncomfortable.
"He should have moved on."
Evelyn looked at her.
"How could he move on from a child he believed had been taken from him?"
Margaret looked down.
The truth was painful.
Clara noticed.
"Did you ever talk to him?"
Margaret nodded slowly.
"Once."
"And?"
Margaret's voice became quieter.
"He begged me to tell him where you were."
Clara felt a wave of anger.
"And you refused?"
Margaret closed her eyes.
"Yes."
David looked at his mother.
"I don't understand how you lived with that."
Margaret looked at him.
"I don't either anymore."
The confession was different from all the others.
There was no defense.
No explanation.
Only regret.
Clara walked toward the door.
She needed space.
She needed air.
But before she reached it, Margaret spoke.
"Clara."
She stopped.
Margaret looked at her.
"I know saying sorry doesn't fix what I did."
Clara remained silent.
"But I need you to know something."
"What?"
Margaret swallowed.
"I never looked at you and saw someone I had to take care of."
Her voice shook.
"I looked at you and saw my daughter."
Clara turned slightly.
The words hurt because they came from someone who had both loved her and hurt her.
"I believe you."
Margaret looked surprised.
"But that doesn't mean I am not angry."
Margaret nodded.
"I know."
"And it doesn't mean everything is okay."
"I know."
Clara looked at her.
"Good."
Because for the first time, they were standing in the truth together.
Not pretending.
Not hiding.
Just facing what happened.
The drive to Thomas's house was quiet.
David drove.
Clara sat in the passenger seat holding the address.
She looked out the window as familiar streets slowly disappeared behind them.
Every mile felt like moving closer to a version of herself she had never met.
"Are you scared?" David asked.
Clara gave a small smile.
"Yes."
"Me too."
She looked at him.
"You?"
David nodded.
"Because I don't know what happens after today."
Clara looked back at the road.
"Neither do I."
May you like
They continued in silence.
But it was not the uncomfortable silence from earlier.
