The Call That Never Connected
434 Words
Chapter Three
The Call That Never Connected
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then the call ended.
She tried again.
This time, the number was unavailable.
Lidya stared at the screen.
She hadn't imagined it.
Someone had deliberately contacted her.
Someone knew about her mother.
She searched the number online.
Nothing.
She saved it temporarily under the name Unknown.
There was no point.
If the person wanted to disappear, they could.
And they clearly knew how.
Lidya walked to the kitchen and poured herself another glass of water.
She stood by the window.
Across the street, a woman was closing the curtains of her apartment.
A man walked his dog beneath a large black umbrella.
A bus passed through the intersection.
Everything looked ordinary.
But Lidya no longer felt ordinary.
For the first time in her life, she wanted to know what had happened before she could remember.
She wanted to know why someone had left her at St. Michael's.
She wanted to know who had found her.
And more than anything, she wanted to know one thing.
Who are her parents?
She had never allowed herself to imagine her parents.
Whenever the subject came up at the orphanage, she had learned to change it.
Some children cried when they talked about their parents.
Lidya didn't.
She had nothing to cry about.
Nothing to remember.
No voice.
No face.
No smell of perfume.
No arms around her.
No bedtime stories.
No birthday photograph.
She had once asked one of the older caregivers whether anything had been left with her when she was found.
The woman had paused before answering.
"No, sweetheart."
That answer had stayed with her.
Lidya had eventually convinced herself that perhaps her parents had never wanted her.
It was easier to accept rejection than to live with uncertainty.
Now someone was telling her that they know her parents.
Her phone remained in her hand.
She typed again.
If you know so much, tell me.
The message showed as delivered.
No response.
Lidya waited.
One minute.
Five.
Ten.
She pressed Call.
The phone rang once.
Then the call ended.
She tried again.
This time, a recorded voice told her that the number was no longer in service.
She tried again.
Again, a recorded voice...
Lidya stared at the screen.
Whoever had contacted her had disappeared.
She threw the phone onto the sofa.
"This is ridiculous."
She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.
Her hands were shaking.
She drank half of it before realizing she was holding the glass too tightly.
Then she remembered something.
The photograph.
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