Sifting through records
At the orphanage, I pored over their old records, looking for any mention of my family. Hours passed as I sifted through birth certificates, adoption papers, and handwritten notes.
It was tedious work, and my eyes grew tired from the fine print. Just when I thought I’d hit a dead end, I found something— a mention of a relative that matched Frank’s description.
My heart pounded as I read through the heartbreaking details.