LOST DAUGHTER

LOST DAUGHTER


Anna's POV

The words hung in the air like they didn’t belong to me.

“99.9998% probability of maternity.”

I stared at the doctor, my mouth slightly open, but no sound came out. My heart was beating so loud it drowned out everything else. The bruises on my cheeks throbbed in time with it. My wrists still burned from the ropes and every part of my body reminded me that just a few days back, I had been kidnapped, slapped, and threatened like I was nothing.

And now this?

Mrs. Desmond let out a sound that was half sob, half laugh and covered her mouth with shaking hands. She had tried to suppress it.

Tears rolled down her face freely.

She looked at me like I was the most precious thing she had ever seen.

“My baby,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “My Juliana. My Anna.”

I couldn’t breathe.

The room suddenly felt too small and bright for me.

The expensive furniture, the soft lighting, the flowers on the table and even the wall felt like everything was pressing in on me.

For real?
Was this some prank?

I had spent my whole life knowing I was alone. Orphanages. Different homes. Different faces that never stayed. No mother. No father. No one who ever came back for me. So bad that it looked like I even lost my memory.

And now this woman was saying I was hers?

Mrs. Desmond stepped closer and pulled me into her arms again.

This time I didn’t stiffen. I let her hold me.

It was new but not strange. Not something I wanted to stop. It was warm and comforting. Her hug was careful, gentle, like she remembered I was still hurting. Her hand rubbed slow circles on my back.

“You’re home,” she whispered against my hair. “You’re finally home, my love.”

I closed my eyes.

And then a flash came.

Not a full memory, just some pieces.

This same warmth and feeling.
A soft pink blanket with little white stars was like warm arms wrapping it around my small body.

I would hold it tight and watch someone and a gentle voice hummed a lullaby I couldn’t quite catch.

The feeling of safety. The faint smell of food and cleanliness and something sweet like baby powder.

I gasped and pulled back a little, my eyes wide.

Mrs. Desmond noticed immediately.

“What is it, my dear?” she asked, worry creased her forehead.

“I… I think I remembered something,” I said slowly, my voice shaky. “A blanket. It… it's pink with white stars.

I used to hold it every night. I couldn’t sleep without it.”

Mrs Desmond’s eyes widened with delight.

I continued, my voice getting a bit higher with excitement, “I thought… I thought it was just something I found in the orphanage. I kept it for years. I still have it. It’s old and faded now, but I never slept without it.”

Mrs. Desmond’s eyes filled with fresh tears.

“That was yours,” she whispered. “You called it ‘Star Blankie.’ You refused to sleep without it. We looked for it for months after the accident. We never found it. It was in the car with us that day.”

I stared at her, my chest tightened.

“You said you still have it?” Mrs Desmond asked.

I chuckled.

It's in a really bad condition now. I used it to cover a side rough looking table. Just so it stopped looking awful in my apartment.

The blanket I had carried through every orphanage, every hard night, every lonely moment… could it really have been from her?

The thought made my eyes sting again.

“I don’t remember anything else,” I whispered. “Just that blanket. And even that… I’m not sure. Maybe I’m just imagining it because I want it to be true.”

Deep down I wanted to remember more already. How hard could it be?

I just wanted to connect this feeling of excitement.

Mrs. Desmond shook her head gently.

“It doesn’t matter if you remember right now,” she said softly. “We have time. The important thing is you’re here. You’re alive. You’re my daughter.” She kissed my cheek.

I looked away, blinking fast.

My bruised cheeks hurt. My body still felt a bit heavy and sore.

I turned to Mr Desmond and smiled.

That was… my dad.

Ouu… I have a father.

This was once a wish I had in the orphanage.

To have a father. Even if being adopted.

But as fate had it, I was adopted by my single mother. Who later left me for a better place.

“I’ve been alone for so long,” I said, my voice cracking. “I don’t know how to have a mother. Or a father. To be your child. I don’t know how to have a family. What if this is all a mistake? What if the test is wrong?”

Mrs. Desmond cupped my face carefully, avoiding the bruises.

“Then we will learn together,” she said. “No pressure. No rush. Just… let me love you, Anna. Let me be your mother now. I've been deprived of this. Even if it takes time for you to believe it. Just please do this for me. Or…” her voice broke. “I'll go crazy,” she sobbed.

I nodded slowly. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

Wesley stood quietly near the door, watching us. His eyes were soft, but I could see the worry in them. He knew how much I had already been through.

Mrs. Desmond wiped her tears and smiled.

“The results are clear, my dear. You are my daughter. You are home.”

Home.

That word still felt strange. But for the first time in my life, it didn’t feel completely impossible.

I leaned my head against Mrs. Desmond’s shoulder for a moment.

Just that small moment, The warmth of her hug felt comforting. Like one of the best feelings in my existence. Like something I had been missing without knowing it.

But deep down, fear still sat heavy in my chest.

What if this happiness disappeared tomorrow?

What if I woke up and realized it was all a dream?

Dreammmmm like when I was in the orphanage. It always came from loneliness. I would begin to imagine a happy family so much I believed that I had been adopted and kidnapped and brought back to the orphanage when I sna
pped out of it.

But regardless. The question was still there.

What if I really was their lost daughter… and I had no idea how to be one?