But then, Emily turned the conversation to George’s childhood. “Tell me about your early years,” Emily asked, her voice gentle. “What was it like growing up? I know you said you were adopted.” George hesitated for a moment before responding. “I was really lucky. I had great foster parents—people who really cared about me.”
“I always knew I was adopted, but I never really felt like I was missing anything. My life was good. I had a home. But… there was always this feeling, you know? Like there was something missing, like there was a part of me that I didn’t quite understand.” Margaret had been quietly listening, her gaze fixed on her hands.
After a long pause, she looked up, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “Do you remember the name of the orphanage you were in, George?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion. George looked at her, nodding slowly. “Yeah, it was St. Someone’s Orphanage?”
“I never really thought about it much until now, but I’ve always wondered about my biological family. I guess that’s why all of this is so overwhelming for me, trying to make sense of everything.”