I couldn't breathe.
Even hours after leaving the study room, my chest still felt tight—like the truth was pressing down on me, refusing to let me think clearly.
Adopted.
The word echoed in my mind again and again.
I sat on my bed, staring at nothing.
Everything around me suddenly felt чужо… unfamiliar.
This room.
This house.
This life.
Was any of it really mine?
A soft knock came on the door.
I flinched.
"Can I come in?" my mother's voice asked gently.
I quickly wiped my face, not even realizing when I had started crying.
"Yes."
She entered with a small smile.
"I brought you some tea."
I nodded, avoiding her eyes.
"Thank you."
She placed the cup beside me and sat down.
For a moment, she just looked at me.
Like she was trying to read my thoughts.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly.
That question almost broke me.
Should I tell her?
Should I ask her everything?
But then I remembered their voices.
"We won't let that happen."
"I'm fine," I said quietly.
It was a lie.
And somehow… she seemed to know.
She gently touched my head.
"You know," she said, "not everything needs to be questioned. Some things… are better left in the past."
My heart stopped.
Again.
A warning.
Another one.
After she left, I sat there in silence.
No more doubt.
They were hiding the truth from me.
On purpose.
I stood up suddenly.
If they wouldn't tell me—
I would find out myself.
That night, I went back to the diary.
My hands were steadier this time.
Not because I wasn't scared.
But because I needed answers more than I feared them.
I flipped through the pages quickly.
Then—
One entry caught my attention.
A name.
Written clearly.
Repeated several times.
"Nusrat."
I frowned.
I had never heard that name before.
Not from my parents.
Not from relatives.
No one.
I read the entry carefully.
"Nusrat came again today. She refused to leave without seeing the child.
This is becoming dangerous. If she keeps coming back… the truth will not stay hidden."
My grip tightened on the diary.
The child…
Was that me?
Another entry.
"We had to send Nusrat away. It was the only way.
She doesn't understand that this is for the child's safety."
My heart pounded.
Who was she?
Why did she want to see me?
And why were my parents afraid of her?
A terrible thought crossed my mind.
What if…
Nusrat was connected to my real family?
I felt a chill run down my spine.
If that was true—
Then she might be the only person who knew the truth.
I quickly grabbed my phone.
My fingers hesitated for a second.
Then I typed the name:
Nusrat.
So many results.
Too many.
It felt impossible.
I closed my eyes, thinking.
There had to be more.
Something specific.
Something that could lead me to her.
Then I remembered the photograph.
The one I saw in the drawer.
The unknown woman beside me.
Could that be…
Nusrat?
My heart started racing again.
I opened the diary once more, searching desperately.
And then—
At the corner of one page—
Almost hidden—
An address.
Faded.
But still readable.
My hands trembled as I whispered it out loud.
This was it.
A real clue.
A real connection.
I looked up, my decision already made.
Tomorrow…
I was going to that address.
Because for the first time—
The truth had a name.
And I was finally close enough to reach it.