When the car stopped in front of the Benevolent Orphanage, my heart fluttered for no apparent reason.
Mom pushed open the car door, took my hand, and led me out, saying gently, "This is the place. According to the file, this place has been established for 30 years. The former director was a very kind woman, but sadly, she passed away just last week."
I looked up, and I saw the rusted iron gate, the courtyard wall covered with vines, and the huge banyan tree in the yard. For some unknown reason, everything felt inexplicably familiar to me.
The new director, a woman in her forties, greeted us with a warm smile.
"Welcome, Madam and Ms. Lambert. I am the director of this orphanage."
Seeing her, I couldn't help but ask, "The photo in the file... The director was a white-haired old lady."
