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Another thing I had promised myself to look into once I broke free from my adoptive family was the whereabouts of my real parents.

I wanted to know what happened to them, why they thought leaving me at the entrance of a park on a chilly, snowy night was the best option until I was taken in foster care. This was a risk I was willing to take. The only thing that the Sanders' could go looking for in search for me was this. This was that only thing that they could link me back to.

It took me quite a while to find what had been my temporary home. And even then I wasn't sure if it was the right one. I figured it would be somewhere near the Sanders' old house. The house had some of my best and only happy memories of my childhood. Back when there was no Dan or Harper, I was actually a loved child. They loved me like their own until everything went wrong when Dan was born. It was a pleasant shock to the parents. As far as we knew, there was little to no chance of Mrs. Sanders getting pregnant hence why I was adopted in the first place.

I guess that was what went wrong. The delivery of their own child, someone they made together brought over a sense of discrimination among us. They started seeing me as someone different, not a part of the family.

It was a good thing I didn't think of settling in that area because chances were that the Sanders would think that I was here too. I wasn't going to leave any clues of where to find me and I was going to stay somewhere here for the night to make it seem like I'd come from somewhere far.

I finally found the home I was looking for. I had no recollection of being here but I had the address with me before I ran away from home. I wasted a few minutes in front of the door before I raised a fist to knock.

A woman who looked to be in her sixties opened the door. She had graying hair and glasses dangling from her neck.

"Hello, I'm Millie Baker. How many I help you?" She said in a croaky voice.

The name was right.

"I'm Julia Sanders." When my introduction did not help bring any recognition to her face, I added, "I was here for a bit. You were my foster mother. It was barely for two years somewhere around 2004 until I was adopted by Daisy and Henry Sanders."

That did the trick. "Oh, sweet little Julia? That's you?"

"That's me," I affirmed.

"Oh my, come in," she said, opening the door wider. "I thought I was never going to see you again."

She led me into the living room and made me sit on the couch. She brought me tea and cookies before she took a seat next to me.

While I gorged on the delicious cookies, she launched into her memories of me when I was with her. Some of them were quite embarrassing and I was glad I couldn't remember any of them.

Finally after it seemed that she had ran out of stories, she said, "Tell me, how did you think of coming here today?"

"I want to know about my family–my real family. If you've got any information on them, please do tell. Even if it's something really small or insignificant, I'd still like to know about it."

"Oh, honey. You were abandoned in a park. No one saw you getting placed there. As far as I remember, there wasn't anything on you that could lead us to your parents. The investigation turned up nothing." She said sympathetically.

"Are you sure there's nothing? It's been years, maybe you forgot something?" I said desperately.

She seemed to think hard. "Yes, oh God, how could I have forgotten about it? There was a letter, well more like instructions for what to do with you. It was recovered from you. I don't remember much about what was written in it. When no one could find your parents, the investigation pretty much stopped after months and by that time I had already taken you in my care. I think I requested for a copy of that letter."

My heart stuttered. "Do you still have it?"

"Honey, it's been one and half decade. I'm not too sure but I think I might be able to find it. It might be somewhere here." She got up and began rummaging inside drawers. When the living room didn't turn up anything, she moved to the other rooms.

After five minutes of her trying to search through things for something that was with her fifteen years ago, I stopped her. "You don't have to search it now. You can take your time. It's not really urgent." Although it was.

She returned, breathing hard from all the effort. "I should really manage things better."

I smiled. "Thank you for trying. Was there anything else?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, that's all I remember."

"Okay, I'll leave my number with you and if you find it at home, please call me. I really want that letter. I'm desperate to know anything about my real parents."

"Of course, I'll tell you first thing if I find it." She gave me a piece of paper to scribble my number on.

"Do you have time tonight? I'd like to have dinner with you." I said hesitantly. "I just want to catch up. I'm staying nearby and will be going back next day."

She agreed and we met up for dinner at a local restaurant near her house. I wanted to ask her if somebody ever came looking for me during my time there but she didn't remember much about me and I didn't get anything significant from her other than knowing that my real mom had only left behind a letter.

Millie Baker was a really talkative woman. She had a lot of questions for me. She mainly asked about my life after I was adopted and I had to lie, paint a picture of me having a perfect, loving family. I lied to her a lot.

She said she was happy for me and I just smiled tightly at her.

Promising to call me if she found the letter, I bid her goodbye and walked to the hotel I had booked a room in for a day. Braxton might think it was dangerous for me to stay at a place like that but the journey back would be too long and I was tired and didn't want to travel the whole night.

Besides he was away on tour with his band and he wouldn't know that I had gone somewhere lest he thought I was up to no good.

This was perfect timing because he wouldn't know that I'd gone somewhere and I was sure the maids or cooks wouldn't bother to tell him about my absence seeing as it would hold little importance to him.

The next day before I left, I visited the Sanders' old house. I didn't go inside, I just watched it from afar. A new family lived there now and I wondered if everyone there was happy. It looked like that to me.

There was a father, a mother and a son. They wore happy expressions on their faces but beyond that I wondered if the son felt too lonely at times, I wondered if he got picked on often without an elder sibling trying to protect and look up to. I wondered if the mother was faithful to her husband and vice versa or if they loved each other at all. Did their marriage lose their sparks? Were they hiding dark stories behind those too big smiles, just like I had done with Millie Baker?

 Did their marriage lose their sparks? Were they hiding dark stories behind those too big smiles, just like I had done with Millie Baker?

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