It had been a long hard day at school, the last day of classes always seems to take longer than it should. It had been a month since the remission became official. I was walking better, and my mood had evened out, but I was still a bit underweight, and I didn’t know how long it would be till my once perfect hair grew in normally instead of in patches.

Should go with the patches ... I wonder how I’d look with a mohawk.

I was staring at the lavender ceiling in my room. It had taken a while to think of it as ‘my room’, though in truth I’d been here longer than any other place since I was abandoned. Almost two years in total, that had to be a record. There was a knock on the door and I said, “What’s up?”

Rachel popped in and smiled at me, “You have a visitor.”

“Another human-interest piece? Kind-hearted blogger?”

“Your mom.”

“Bullshit. Who is it really?”

“She said she’s your mom. If you want us to turn her away, we can.”

I thought for a moment. It had been ten years since I’d seen her and six since I spoke to her. I’d been cast aside, so they could focus on my little sister. I’d gone through a sequence of relatives and some strangers, till Rachel and Sydney had taken me in.

“No, I’ll take to her. Could you two stay close though?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

Rachel and Sydney were amazing. They’d taken me in without question when the friend of a cousin I’d been forced on wouldn’t pay my medical bills. They’d never tried to parent me. They were just like this wonderful big brother and sister. They’ve never hesitated to help me.

I forced myself to sit and opened my laptop. I printed a document I’d saved for just-in-case this ever happened. On a whim, I grabbed the wig and trotted down the steps. As I reached the bottom, I realized my mother was sitting at the kitchen table and facing away from me. Rachel was hovering pretending to clean and I could hear Fortnite from the living room, so I knew Sydney was nearby.

I walked past her and sat opposite of her. She looked older, but ten years will do that to a woman. The hair I remembered as brown was streaked with grey. Her eyes had dark circles under them and were tinged with redness. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to feel. On paper, it would have been safe to assume elation, sorrow, or maybe anger? The truth was I felt nothing. I hadn’t seen the women since I was seven and last spoke to her when I was eleven. Whatever love or attachment I had for her was long gone eroded away by time’s constant flow.

I watched her breath hitch as she saw me. I was curious what she was feeling, if anything. She obviously didn’t care about me. You don’t send someone you love away and forget about them for a decade. So, why was she even there to begin with? I plastered on a smile and extended my hand, “Hi, I’m Hailey. Pleased to meet you.”

She’d been smiling, but it faltered, “Sweetie, it’s me.”

“Did you interview me before? I’m sorry if I don’t remember you if it was a few months ago. Memory is hit or miss on stuff.”

“I’m your mother.” She stated it like it meant something, like her sharing half of my DNA mattered in some universal scale.

“Oh ... good, I’ve got some papers for you to sign then.”

“Are you okay? It took me a month to find you. I panicked when you weren’t at my mother’s.”

That was a bit incredulous as I hadn’t been at my grandmother’s home in 9 years. The last time we’d spoke I was with one of her sisters. I pulled out the document and slid it across the table, “It’s a good day.”

She didn’t even look at them and instead asked, “How’d you end up here? I left you with my parents. I don’t even know these people.”

“I’ll tell you if you sign.”

She finally picked up the document and read through it, “This is to transfer my parental rights? I came to bring you back home. Why wouldn’t you want to come home?”

“This is my home.”

“No, it’s not. You need to come back home.”

“It’s been ten years.”

“I had to leave you with your grandparents, so I could focus on Lily. She was sick. It was too much to take care of you both.”

“She was sick for ten years?”

I watched the expression on her face falter, “She was sick for two years.”

“And it’s been ten.”

“So, you’re mad I didn’t come for you sooner? I was going to six years ago, but Lily had another scare. How did you even get here?”

“Are you going to sign?”

“No.”

“It doesn’t really matter; I’ll be 18 in another couple months anyway. You could do one thing to actually help me, but I guess that was too much to ask.”

“You need to come home. I miss you; your dad misses you; Lily needs you.”