Victoria Bella Volkov;
“There’s no such thing!” I snapped into the phone, pacing the room. My words were directed at someone I trusted—someone outside the suffocating circle of Vincenzo and my adoptive parents. Not that the latter ever truly felt like family to begin with.
“Look, I know I came from somewhere. I have roots,” I insisted, my voice trembling with frustration. “Check the hospital records. Dig deeper. Just…please, do something.”
A heavy silence hung between us before they finally responded.
“Alright, Bella. I’ll look into it, but I can’t promise anything,” they said cautiously. Then, as if an afterthought, their tone shifted. “Oh, and… I came across something. Something about your family. It might interest you.”
My heart skipped. Something stirred. Hope? Or dread?
The voic
