The Worst Part Wasn’t Losing the Money
The missing savings frightened me.
The apartment documents worried me.
Losing my mother’s jewelry was especially painful because no amount of money could replace its sentimental value.
But none of those losses compared with what I felt while staring at
the photograph of Daniel standing beside my son.
A stranger had apparently exploited my loneliness.
That alone was difficult enough to accept.
But if the message was true, someone from my own family had helped make it possible.
My forgotten birthday suddenly seemed different too.
I began wondering how much of what had happened was coincidence and how much had been carefully planned before I ever left my apartment in that green dress.
My 62nd Birthday Ended With a Question I Never Expected to Ask
Only one day earlier, my
greatest sadness had been believing that my children had forgotten my birthday.
