After drying my hair, I opened my drawer and took out the diary. I flipped it open to the page where I left off, which was just the second page. Below the mentioning about my birthday, there was still one sentence I haven't read.
[ xx/xx/2009: Amanda looked very weak. She most probably only got a few months of care before getting abandoned. I brought her to a hospital for a check-up.
"She most likely only had breast milk for approximately six months," was what the doctor said.
With that information given, I concluded that her birthday is around the beginning of February, between 10 and 15. ]
Now that I've gotten one step closer to the truth, I had more motivation to move onto the next page. This diary was filled with secrets no one ever told me about; secrets about my very existence.
Looking at the clock, it was already bedtime. I closed the diary in disappointment and tucked myself to bed.
"Sigh. Guess I'll have to wait for tomorrow again."
