“She wasn’t your grandmother.”
The words hit like a blade.
“I know!”
My voice broke.
“I read the letter—she wasn’t—she took me in—”
“No.”
The woman’s tone didn’t change.
“She took you.”
Silence.
Everything inside me stopped.
“What…?”
“She wasn’t meant to have you.”
My breathing became uneven.
“You were assigned.”
Assigned.
“You were part of a program.”
My mind went blank.
“No.”
I shook my head.
Hard.
“No, you’re lying.”
“We created you.”
The room spun.
“For observation.”
My heart pounded uncontrollably.
“To study development outside controlled environments.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“A child placed into the real world…”
Her eyes locked onto mine.
“…to see what she would become.”
Tears streamed down my face.
“No… I had a life…”
“Yes.”
She nodded slightly.
“And it worked.”
Worked?
“You adapted.”
Her voice almost sounded impressed.
“You formed emotional bonds.”
Grandma.
“You built identity.”
