Not Your Daughter

Clara

Daughter?

I stared at the woman in front of me, confused, my mind struggling to make sense of her words. She called me her daughter as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Yes, we looked alike, anyone with eyes could see that, but resemblance alone didn’t mean we were related. How could I possibly be her daughter when I grew up in an orphanage. No one ever came for me, and