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.

He never called her a disgrace.

Instead, he would sit on the edge of her bed, put his hand on her shoulder, and remind her of something she desperately needed to hear.

“You’re still my little girl, Emma. No matter what happens, you’ll always be my little girl.”

 

For eighteen years she believed that these words were the greatest proof of his love.

Then, shortly before Sophie’s eighteenth birthday, Emma received a letter that made her question everything she thought she knew about her family.

Her father had been dead for four years.

He left behind a secret that he was afraid to reveal during his lifetime.

 

Emma was thirty-one years old when the letter reached her.

It was an ordinary Tuesday evening. She had just returned from work, still dressed in her work clothes, when she found an envelope on the kitchen table, among the bills and advertisements.Her name and surname appeared on the front of the envelope in an unknown handwriting.