My life is a mess. That, I have already accepted. But the thought of seeing my son today has somehow promised to make everything right in my world.
"Hello. I'm here to see my son." I say to the receptionist at the orphanage.
"Your what?" she asks, her tone too unfriendly for my liking.
"My son. His name is Michael Junior Bavarish."
She reluctantly picks up the mouse and starts scrolling through the large computer screen in front of her.
Her frown lines begin deepening at some point. Then she looks up at me and flips her head to a no. "I'm sorry miss, but I can't find any boy by that name. It doesn't even sound familiar because I know every child in this place."
"What do you mean the name doesn't sound familiar? They told me my son was here! I need to see him!"
She simply shrugs back at me, as if I am some crazy bitch that needs to be locked up.
"Don't just stand there! Go find my son for me!"
