Remembering Olivia

"I live for you, I long for you, Olivia. I've been idolizing the light in your eyes, Olivia. I live for you, I long for you, Olivia." &&& Olivia I opened my eyes and immediately jumped out of bed. Giggling, I ran into my parents' room to wake them up. "It's my birthday!" When I opened the door, they were already awake. Mommy turned toward me, and the moment she saw me, her eyes lit up. "Livvy!" "Mommy, it's my birthday!" I squealed as I threw myself into her arms. She pulled me into a big hug. "Yes, baby, it is." Daddy started tickling me, making me laugh so hard my stomach hurt. "Daddy, stop!" "Not until you tell me how old you are," he laughed. "I'm four!" I said jokingly. "I'm not stopping until you tell me your real age!" Daddy kept tickling me. "Okay, okay!" I shouted between giggles. "I'm six now!" Finally, Dad stopped and kissed the top of my head. "Yes, sweetie. You're six now." "You've been my parents for two years now?" I asked. "No!" Mommy laughed, shaking her head. "Three!" I stayed quiet for a moment, studying Mommy's face. "Why did you take me from my real mommy and daddy?" Mommy's smile faded. A sad look crossed her face. She gently put me down and took my hand in hers. "We got you lots of presents. Do you want to see them?" My eyes lit up instantly, and I bounced on my toes. "Yes!" "Let's go!" Dad ruffled my hair as I noticed him gently squeezing Mommy's shoulder. I loved my life and my family. &&& Three Years Later... I was nine. I knew my parents had adopted me. But I didn't know why. And lately, something inside me desperately wanted to know. Every year on my birthday, Mom and Dad prepared a treasure hunt for me. They hid my gifts around the house and left clues for me to find them. And every year, there was always a trip to a different destination. Usually, I woke up excited. This year was different. Maybe it was because I was getting older. Or maybe it was because I had started wondering who I really was. I sat in bed reading my book until Mom called me downstairs. I placed the book on my nightstand and ran down the stairs. The second I stepped into the living room, my eyes lit up. It looked like a little store in Tokyo. Japanese snacks. Cherry blossom decorations. Paper lanterns. Everything was covered in pink and red. I immediately knew where we were going. I jumped up and down excitedly before running straight into Dad's arms. He lifted me off the ground and kissed my cheek. "We're going to Tokyo, baby!" I laughed as he spun me around. When he finally put me down, I ran over and wrapped my arms around Mom. I loved them so much. "Open your gifts!" Mom exclaimed, clapping her hands together. I grinned. For a moment, I forgot all about the questions I'd been carrying around in my head. &&& Three Years Later... I found the answer to my questions. And the answer was that I didn't care enough to find them. My parents noticed my habit of overthinking, and it was only making me anxious and distracted. They tried everything they could to help me worry less. Dad was a lawyer who traveled all over the world. Mom was a famous fashion designer. And they had money. A lot of money. They were billionaires, and they gave me everything I could ever need. When I broke my ankle, Dad canceled an important meeting to stay with me. When I got sick for three days, Mom skipped events and interviews so she could sit beside my bed. So I didn't care that we weren't related by blood. Because what we had felt stronger than blood. People always said blood was thicker than water, but the people who raised me proved that love could be stronger than both. Sure, we didn't share DNA. But we shared every birthday candle. Every scraped knee. Every nightmare. Every victory. I headed downstairs and noticed an envelope resting on the last step. Grinning, I picked it up and opened it. Liv, You deserve to live and love. Another year older, another adventure begins. Your first clue waits where stories sleep, where dragons fly, detectives sneak, and every page opens a different world. I reread it once. Then twice. Stories sleep. Dragons fly. Detectives sneak. "The library." I took off running. I sprinted into the library and immediately spotted Mom pretending to read a book. I rolled my eyes. Then ran straight toward her. Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrowed my eyes. "Mom, I'd believe you if you were sitting in your reading corner." We each had our own reading spot. A glass room with a comfortable chair, a desk, and shelves packed with books. "You got me," Mom laughed, pulling me into a hug. "Happy birthday, baby." She kissed the top of my head. "You're the best gift we ever received." I smiled. Before adopting me, Mom had struggled to get pregnant. When years of trying didn't work, she and Dad decided to adopt. And somehow, they chose me. According to Mom, I was the light that appeared in her darkest years. She always said she thanked God for not giving her biological children because otherwise she would never have gotten me. "Everything happens for a reason," she liked to say. "What's my second clue?" I asked. "It's me," she smirked. "Here you go." She handed me another envelope. I opened it immediately. Our little explorer, You once built a blanket fort and declared yourself Queen of the Living Room. We still remember your royal speech. Your next clue is hiding where kings and queens might sit to watch over their kingdom. I read it aloud. "Where kings and queens might sit to watch over their kingdom..." Then I grinned. "The living room." &&& I was eleven when I found out who my biological parents were. I stared at the photograph of them holding me when I was a baby. It broke my heart. I hated that they were the people who brought me into this world. They didn't deserve me. They didn't deserve a child. And the thought that God had given them a child while my parents had spent years praying for one made me angry. Because He had seen how much my parents wanted a child. How much love they had to give. And yet He gave me to people who couldn't keep me. I ripped the photograph in half and threw the pieces out the window. They weren't even worth my garbage. I sat beside Mom on my bed and rested my head on her shoulder. "They mean nothing to me, Mom," I whispered. "I don't care that they exist. You're my parents." She kissed the top of my head and placed her hand over mine. "We just wanted you to know your-" "They're not my parents," I cut her off. "They're strangers. Just like the strangers we pass in malls or schools. They mean nothing to me." Mom sighed softly. "We just thought you'd want to know them because of all the questions you used to ask when you were younger." "Yes, but that was then, and this is now," I said. "I'm older now. I understand everything. I know I'm your daughter, not theirs. I don't even want to know their names." "You know, Liv," Mom said gently, playing with my hair, "when we adopted you, their situation was really difficult. They didn't have jobs. They were homeless. They couldn't provide the basics for you. They wanted you to have a better life." "Then they shouldn't have had me," I muttered. "Excuse me?" Mom ruffled my hair. "If they hadn't had you, then we wouldn't have had you either." I stayed quiet. "I was their mistake, Mom." Mom turned toward me. "Maybe you were their mistake," she said softly. "But you were our answered prayer." I felt my throat tighten. "Maybe that's why these things happen, dear. There are children in this world who deserve to be loved, and there are people who have so much love to give but can't have children of their own." She squeezed my hand. "And somehow, those paths cross." A tear slipped down my cheek. Mom smiled through her own tears. "And thank God they did." She pulled me into her arms. "Because now we have you."