My adopted son looked at his birthday cake in silence. Then tears rolled down his cheeks. “My birthday was yesterday,” he whispered. I felt a chill inside – the documents stated today’s date. What else was hidden from me? “Do you want a boy or a girl?” “I just want to be a mom.” That was the only thing I was sure of. I didn’t dream of family pajamas or making homemade baby food. But I knew that I could be the mother who would change someone’s life. Contents Finally, that someone was Joey. Joey’s birthday came a week after he moved in with me. But something was wrong. “I wish I could be with him right now,” Joey whispered. Finding this beacon turned out to be more difficult than I expected. The next day I packed sandwiches, drinks, and a blanket. On the way, he clutched his drawing in his hands, absentmindedly tracing the lines with his finger. The coastal town was full of tourists. “Excuse me… but you’d better leave.” What is she hiding? So, he’s here. Finally, that someone was Joey. He didn’t know that this day would be decisive. A few weeks before, during each visit, he gradually approached me, his tiny hands clinging to the edge of my sweater, and his dark eyes peering into mine with a silent question: “When?” That day I entered the foster home with a plush dinosaur in my hands. Big, soft, with funny short paws. Joey noticed it instantly – his fingers trembled slightly, but he didn’t budge. I knelt beside him. “Well, Joey, are you ready to go home?” He looked at me, then at the dinosaur. “We’re never going back here again?” “Never. I promise.” There was a pause. And then, slowly, he reached for my hand. “Okay. But just so you know, I don’t eat green beans.” I barely held back a smile. “I’ll remember.” And that’s how I became a mom. I knew that adaptation wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t even suspect how many secrets Joey brought with him from the past. Joey’s birthday came a week after he moved in with me. I wanted to make it special. His first real birthday in a new home. Our first real family holiday. I planned everything: balloons, garlands, a mountain of gifts – nothing too flashy, just enough for him to feel loved. The day started perfectly. We made pancakes together in the kitchen. Or rather, we turned the kitchen into a real chaos. Flour covered the floor and even the tip of Joey’s nose. He giggled as he clapped his hands, raising a cloud of flour in the air, watching it swirl like a snowstorm. “Are we making pancakes or just trying to repaint the kitchen?” I teased. “Both,” he replied proudly, stirring the batter. He looked relaxed. Maybe even safe. And for that, it was worth enduring any mess. After breakfast, we moved on to the gifts. I wrapped each one with special care, choosing what I thought he would love: superhero figures, books about dinosaurs, and a huge toy Tyrannosaurus. But something was wrong. Joey unwrapped the gifts slowly. But instead of joy, his delight seemed to fade. “Do you like them?” I asked, trying to speak casually. “Yes. They’re cool.” Not quite the reaction I expected. And then it was time for the cake. I lit the candle, smiling at him. “Well, birthday boy, it’s time to make a wish.” Joey didn’t move. He didn’t smile. Just sat, looking at the candle, as if it didn’t exist. “Honey?” I moved the plate closer to him. “It’s your day. Come on, make a wish.” His lower lip trembled. His hands clenched into fists. “It’s not my birthday.” I blinked. “What?” “My birthday was yesterday.” “But… the documents say it’s today,” I mumbled. “They made a mistake. My brother and I always celebrated together. But I was born before midnight, so we had two birthdays. That’s what Grandma Vivi said.” This was the first time he had spoken about his past. The first time I had at least a little glimpse into his former life. I swallowed, blew out the candle, and sat next to him. “Do you have a brother?” Joey nodded, drawing a circle on the table with his finger. “Yes. His name is Tommy.” “But… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, honey.” Joey sighed heavily and put down his spoon. “I remember our birthdays. The last time I was four, and then he turned four. Grandma Vivi threw us two separate parties. With friends. And then… I was taken.” Only a year ago. The memories are still fresh. The wounds are still open. “I wish I could be with him right now,” Joey whispered. I reached out and gently squeezed his palm. “Joey…” He didn’t look at me. Instead, he quickly rubbed his eyes and stood up. “I’m a little tired.” “Okay. Let’s rest.” I put him to bed in the middle of the day, feeling how exhausted his little body was. As I was about to leave, he stuck his hand under the pillow and pulled out a small wooden box. “My treasure box.” He opened it and took out a folded sheet of paper, handing it to me. “That’s the place. Grandma Vivi always took us there.” I unfolded the paper. A simple drawing. A lighthouse. My heart clenched. And at that moment I realized: before building our future, I needed to heal Joey’s past. Finding this beacon turned out to be more difficult than I expected. The next day I sat in front of the laptop screen, rubbing my forehead, as the search results filled the screen. “There must be a way to narrow down the search.” I looked at the drawing again. A simple lighthouse, neatly shaded in pencil, and a single tree next to it. That tree – the key. I changed the search filters, limited the area to our state, and started looking through image after image, until… “Here it is!” I turned the laptop around. “Joey, does this look like the place?” He leaned closer, his little fingers touching the edge of the screen. His eyes widened. “Yes! That’s it!” “Well, buddy, are we going on an adventure?” “Yes! A real adventure!” The next day I packed sandwiches, drinks, and a blanket. “We may not find it right away,” I warned. “But we’ll have fun looking.” “What are you thinking about?” I asked. “What if she doesn’t remember me?” I reached out and squeezed his hand. “How could she forget?” He didn’t answer. The coastal town was full of tourists. People bustled between antique shops and seafood stalls. The salty breeze and the smell of fried food mixed in the air. I slowed down, glancing at Joey. “Let’s ask someone.” But before I could stop, Joey leaned out the window and frantically waved to a woman passing by. “Excuse me… but you’d better leave.” I felt Joey shrink next to me. His little fingers clutched the drawing, and his eyes filled with pleading. “But, Grandma Vivi, I’m really here!” he stepped closer. “I drew this place, remember? And I brought a gift for Tommy!” Vivi pursed her lips. The cup in her hands trembled, and I noticed her swallowing hard. What is she hiding? I cautiously stepped forward. “Listen, Miss Vivi, I don’t want to bother you, but Joey remembers you. He remembers his brother. And if Tommy is here…” “I said, leave.” Her voice became firmer. But Joey didn’t back down. “Where’s Tommy?” he asked, barely audible. Vivi turned away, but I saw her clench her hand into a fist. So, he’s here. “Miss Vivi,” I tried to speak softly. “I understand that this is hard. But Joey won’t forget Tommy. Doesn’t he deserve at least a meeting?” Vivi closed her eyes. Silence dragged on. And then… The door creaked. I turned around. A boy stood on the threshold, a little older than Joey. Dark eyes. Slight wariness. And something… familiar. “Joey?” The voice broke off mid-sentence. Joey held his breath. “Tommy!” And before anyone could say a word, he rushed forward, hugging his brother. Joey’s face darkened. “Please,” I said softly. “He just wants to see his brother.” “It’s not worth digging into the past.” And then, without saying another word, she closed the door. I stood rooted to the spot, for a moment, anger, confusion, and sadness overwhelmed me. I wanted to knock again, make her talk, demand an explanation. But I couldn’t. Joey looked at the door. His little shoulders slumped. I sat down next to him. “I’m so sorry, honey.” He didn’t cry. Instead, he slowly inhaled and carefully placed the drawing on the doorstep. Then, without saying another word, he turned and walked back to the car. My heart was broken. I started the engine, driving away from the house. I was already scolding myself for bringing him here. For making him hope. But then… “Joey! Joey!” I saw a blurred silhouette in the rearview mirror. Joey raised his head. “Tommy?” I slammed on the brakes just as a boy identical to Joey ran towards us, waving his arms, gasping for air. Before I could stop him, Joey opened the door and ran out. They collided, hugging so tightly that it seemed to me they would never let go of each other. I closed my mouth, unable to contain the emotions. Behind them stood Vivi in the doorway, her hand pressed to her chest, her eyes shining. Then she slowly raised her hand and nodded slightly. An invitation. I swallowed hard and turned off the car. We weren’t leaving yet. Later, Vivi stirred her tea, her gaze fixed on Joey and Tommy, who sat shoulder to shoulder, whispering as if they had never been separated. Finally, Vivi spoke. “When the boys were a year old, their parents died in a car accident.” I tensed up. I didn’t know this. Vivi continued to look at her tea. “I wasn’t young. I wasn’t strong. I didn’t have money. I had to make a choice.” She looked up at me. “I left the one who looked like my son. And I let the other one go.” My breath caught. “That day at the birthday party. It was a farewell. I thought it was the right thing to do. But I was wrong.” A long silence hung between us. Then Joey reached out and placed his little palm on hers. “It’s okay, Grandma Vivi. I found a mom.”