It was a warm, sunny spring day. My window was rolled down, allowing the wind to blow through my hair and whip the strands in my face as I zoomed home from school. A catchy tune was just ending as I turned into the driveway. I killed the engine, grabbed my purse and trotted up to the front door, searching for my house key and humming the chorus from the song I had just heard.
I snatched the mail as I burst through the front door. “Wonder if anythings for me?” I asked myself as I rifled through the letters, bills and junkmail, searching for my name. A rectangular envelope caught my eye, as it bore the label: Heather Vickers. I glanced at the return address to see where it was from: New Mexico.
I tossed the rest of the mail on the blue bench by the front door and sprinted down to my room to change. After I tossed on jeans and a t-shirt my attention again turned to the package on my bed. I carefully tore the seal and withdrew pictures of my daughter and a note from her adoptive mother. As I gazed at the image of Bethany with her parents, my memory wandered back to her birth…….
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