Trauma Grieving

Chapter 6

_Sophia's POV_

I stared at Rachel, my eyes burning with anger and hurt. "You're my mother," I whispered, the words feeling like poison on my lips.

Rachel's face crumpled, and she took a step forward, her hands reaching out to me. "Sophia, please understand—"

But I backed away, my heart racing with emotions. "No, I don't understand. You've been lying to me my whole life. You gave me up, and now you're back?"

The room was silent, the tension palpable. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of emotions, unsure of what to believe or who to trust.

Vee and Johnson exchanged worried glances, but I didn't care. I only cared about one thing: the truth.

"Why?" I demanded, my voice shaking. "Why did you give me up?"

Rachel's eyes filled with tears, and she took a deep breath before speaking. "I did it because I wanted you to have a better life, Sophia. I was young, and I wasn't ready to be a mother. I thought it was the best decision for you."

I laughed, the sound bitter. "A better life? You call being raised by strangers a better life?"

The room fell silent again, and I knew I had crossed a line. But I didn't care. I was hurt, and I wanted Rachel to hurt too.

Rachel's face crumpled, and she looked like she'd been punched in the gut. I didn't care. I wanted her to feel the pain I'd felt for years.

"I know I made a mistake," Rachel whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm sorry, Sophia. I'm so sorry."

I laughed again, the sound mocking. "Sorry? Sorry, it isn't enough. You have no idea what I've been through, what it's like to not know my own mother."

The room was heavy with tension, but I didn't back down. I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.

"Tell me everything," I demanded. "Why did you give me up? What happened to you?"

Rachel took a deep breath, her eyes locked on mine. "I'll tell you everything, Sophia. But you need to know that I'm not making excuses. I'm just trying to explain."

I nodded, my heart racing with anticipation. I had to know the truth.

Rachel began to speak, her voice hesitant at first but growing stronger as she went on. She told me about her life in the group home, about meeting my father, about the struggles she faced. She told me about the day she gave me up and the pain she'd carried with her ever since.

As I listened, my anger began to falter. I saw the pain in Rachel's eyes, the regret, and longing. I saw a woman who'd made a difficult choice, not a monster.

But I still had questions, still had hurt. And I wasn't sure if I was ready to forgive.