Stolen Nine Years, Courtesy of My Mother

I felt my heart stop for a moment, then pound wildly in my chest, shaking me so violently that my vision went black.

Dad sounded utterly exhausted. "No one expected it to turn out this way. Just stop talking about it."

Mom's voice broke with grief. "No! I'm going to say it!"

From the fragments of their conversation, I pieced together the truth. Mom and Dad had gotten pregnant not long after their wedding. To support the family, Dad worked nights.

One evening, Mom was assaulted by a man. She had considered ending her life and even tried to induce a miscarriage. The doctor warned that if she lost the pregnancy, she might never be able to have children again.

Over time, Mom noticed her belly growing larger, and the ultrasound revealed she was carrying twins.

"One of them has to be that rapist's!" Mom cried out. "That bastard survived, and he stole our Anna's health! He ruined Anna! He should give everything back!"

Every word burned like a red-hot iron against my heart. My hands shook violently as I covered my mouth.

At last, everything I couldn't understand fell into place. I was her daughter, and at the same time, I wasn't. I existed as living proof of that nightmare, a constant reminder of the past, a thief who had taken the health of the daughter she truly loved.

The ambulance arrived and took me away. Mom feared that anesthesia would affect Anna's upcoming surgery, so she insisted on a non-anesthetic stomach wash. Pain tore through me like fire racing along every nerve, while my body swung between the heat of a furnace and the chill of an ice bath.

My awareness floated in and out.

The door opened softly. Dad stepped inside, placing a small blueberry cake wrapped in a napkin beside my pillow. "Here, have this quietly. Don't let your mom catch you."

He pressed a hand to my forehead. "Why are you so hot?"

His voice caught Mom's attention. She rushed into the room with a grim expression. "First, you swallowed sleeping pills, and now you have a fever! Are you doing this just to make me worry?"

I lifted my heavy eyelids. Her face was hazy through the fog in my head. My throat was dry, yet I managed to whisper, "I'm sorry, Mom."

That apology had been buried in my heart for so long—for my birth, my existence, for everything.

Mom froze, staring at my flushed, trembling face. Her mouth twitched, and she finally turned away. "Forget it."

They stepped back into the corridor, but the arguing didn't stop.

"You need to give her medicine!" Dad said.

"What medicine?" Mom snapped. "She has tests tomorrow. Medicine could mess up her results—she just has to get through it!"

"Look at her! She's burning up! Jenna is your own daughter!" Dad snapped.

There was a brief pause, then Mom's voice cut through the silence. "Yes, I gave birth to her, but did I really want this? What matters more—your daughter or the rapist's? You decide for yourself."

The corridor was deathly silent. I turned to the small blueberry cake on my pillow. The berries on the cream had lost their freshness.

I took a tiny bite, and it was sharp and sour, completely unlike what I had imagined.

By the third day, my fever had broken, but my body still felt weak and fragile.

Mom touched my forehead, letting out a sigh of relief. "See? I told you—you're going to be okay."

I looked up at her and asked, "Mom, what if I don't wake up?"

She frowned deeply. "Don't be ridiculous! Every time you've had tests, every time you donated bone marrow, you made it through. You swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and survived. Your lab results are fine. Kidney surgery isn't going to kill you."

I raised my face, searching her eyes for even the tiniest crack.

"What if?" I whispered.

I wanted to see if she would care, even a little.

"There is no 'what if,'" she said calmly. "The surgery will succeed. Let's go. Don't make Anna wait."

I watched her open the door into the corridor light, then forced a bitter smile and followed.