At the age of 13, she gave birth to a child, and 18 years later, on her daughter’s birthday, she received a letter from the hospital after which the girl’s father admitted for the first time that he had been hiding the truth.

She saw Lucas as a little boy, Helena standing next to her husband and relatives whose names meant nothing to her.

For a moment she wondered what her life would be like if events had turned out differently.

Would she have grown up surrounded by grandparents and cousins?

Would she have a different surname?

Would anyone in this family love her?

Then she closed the album.

“I don’t want to see them right now,” she said.

Emma nodded.

“That’s totally fine.”

“Maybe I’ll change my mind someday. Or maybe not.”

“You don’t have to make a decision today.”

Sophie looked at her mother for a long moment.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all this when you were so young.”

Emma felt a familiar pain in her chest.

“Sometimes I wish I had been allowed to be thirteen more.”

“Have you ever regretted having me?”

The question was asked so quietly that Emma almost regretted hearing it at all.