MY MOTHER LEFT ME BEHIND AT AN AIRPORT WHEN I WAS ONLY EIGHT—WALKING AWAY WITH HER NEW HUSBAND AND HIS CHILDREN WHILE I CLUTCHED A BACKPACK AND A STUFFED BUNNY. WHEN SHE RETURNED, MY BEDROOM WAS EMPTY… AND LEGAL DOCUMENTS WERE WAITING FOR HER.

A social worker named Mrs. Vega knelt beside me. Her eyes were gentle, though they carried the exhaustion of someone who had witnessed too many heartbreaking situations.

“Leah,” she said softly, “is there anyone else we can contact? Maybe grandparents? An aunt? Anyone?”

For most of my life, my mother had insisted my father didn’t want me. According to her, he had abandoned us before I was even old enough to walk because he couldn’t handle the responsibility of having a child.

I had believed every word.

Why wouldn’t I?…continue reading …