A shiver ran through my body.

Who are you calling?

She looked at me with wide eyes. “Miss… someone has been looking for you for twenty years.”

Before I could answer, the back door opened.

“Desiree?”

She came into the house; she was older, but unmistakable. My grandmother's best friend.

"I've been looking for you," he said, and hugged me unexpectedly.

Then he told me the truth.

My grandmother was not my biological grandmother.

She found me when I was a baby, alone, hidden among the bushes, wearing that necklace.

There was no name. No note. Just me.

She raised me anyway.

And Desiree had spent twenty years searching for my place of origin.

That necklace was the only clue.

—And now —Desiree said softly—, I've found them.

At that moment everything changed.

The next day, I met them: they were my real parents.

They spent years looking for me, never losing hope after I was separated from them as a baby.

And now, somehow… they had found me again.

That afternoon, I followed them to their house.

To a life I never knew existed.

Standing there, holding the necklace I almost sold, I realized something for the first time in a long time:

He was no longer trying to survive.

Finally, I was starting over.