But they refused to reconsider.
At eighteen, frightened and without the resources to care for a newborn alone, I finally signed.
It was the most heartbreaking moment of my life.
Later, my parents told me Fabian had been placed with another family.
They refused to share any details.
But I never accepted that I’d lost him forever.
As soon as I became financially independent, I began searching.
I contacted adoption agencies, examined records, hired investigators, and followed every possible lead.
Years passed.
Then decades.
My parents continued insisting they knew nothing.
But I never stopped hoping that somewhere, my son was alive and happy.
Thirty-One Years Later
Thirty-one years later, I suddenly collapsed at work with severe abdominal pain.
Doctors rushed me into emergency surgery.
When I woke up, I was told the operation had gone well.
The following afternoon, my surgeon came to check on my recovery.
He smiled politely and leaned over my medical chart.
