Chapter 2: The Adoption Game

We were both reborn, back in the Oakview Children’s Home on adoption day.

Inside the director’s office, two families waited: the Grants and the Sanders.

The Grants looked like they’d walked off the pages of Town & Country. Mr. Grant’s suit was pressed so sharp it looked dangerous; Mrs. Grant’s pearls glinted in the fluorescent lights, her designer bag perched on her arm. The faint scent of Mrs. Grant’s Chanel perfume mingled with the crisp, lemony tang of the office. Ryan Grant wore his Oakview Academy blazer with an effortless swagger, but it was his limited-edition Air Jordans that really flexed his status as high school royalty.

Oakview wasn’t just any town, and the Grants weren’t just any family. Mr. Grant was the kind of business mogul with half the city council on speed dial. Mrs. Grant turned heads at every gala. Their son, Ryan, was the Prince of Oakview High—so popular, even the teachers called him by his first name, half-joking, half-awed.

Beside them, the Sanders family looked plain but genuine. Mr. Sanders’s hands were rough from years of mopping floors and fixing leaky pipes; Mrs. Sanders’s cheeks were still flushed from her early shift in the school cafeteria. Their Sunday best couldn’t hide the sweat stains, but their eyes were warm and steady.

The director cleared his throat, explaining that Mr. Sanders kept Oakview High running as janitor, while Mrs. Sanders dished out lunch and comfort to hundreds of kids every day.

Last time, Megan never even looked at the Sanders. She set her sights on the luxury bags and the Grant promise. But now, she bolted from her chair and wrapped Mrs. Sanders in a hug.

"Mom, take me home. I want to be your daughter."

"From now on, my name is Megan Sanders."

As Megan beamed, looking almost innocent again, I felt my stomach drop. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Not again. I crossed the carpet and stood in front of the Grants.

Just like that, the choice was made. We each walked out the door with our new family. The scent of lemon disinfectant trailed behind us as we left Oakview for good.

As we walked down the hallway, I heard the director mutter to a staffer, confusion written all over his face:

"Weird, Megan’s always been the ambitious one. She used to sneer at anyone with a used Honda. Now, with a millionaire couple here, she runs off with the janitor’s wife?"

He shook his head, baffled. But I knew. Oh, I knew all too well.