Summary
On my thirty-seventh birthday, the police told me I had never been abandoned.
The woman who raised me had once worked as a live-in nanny for my biological parents, and thirty-seven years ago, while my mother was in the hospital, she packed eight-month-old me into a vegetable basket and boarded a train south.
When my birth mother saw me for the first time, she did not hug me.
She asked only, “Will you testify in court that she didn’t rescue you back then—she stole you?”