It had a tiny scratch on one arm, something I’d noticed many times growing up.
« This way, you’ll always carry a little piece of me, » I whispered.
I had no idea how important that small necklace would become.
A few hours later, my parents entered my hospital room.
My father was holding a folder.
I assumed it contained discharge paperwork.
Instead, he placed it on my bed.
« Adoption documents, » he announced.
I stared at him.
« What are you talking about? »
Mom looked away.
« We believe this is the best decision for your future. »
My heart sank.
« But you promised to help me! You said I could bring Fabian home! »
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Dad’s expression remained firm.
« Sign the papers, or you’ll need to find somewhere else to live. »
I cried.
I pleaded.
I asked for just a little more time to find a place of my own.
