I was left in a cardboard box in a supermarket twenty years ago, with only a few photos and a note that read: “I will always love you, Sue.” A kind store clerk, Ruby, took me in and raised me as her own. Despite her love, I never stopped wondering about my birth mother.

Fast forward to the present, I’ve become a successful video blogger. One night, an unexpected knock on my door revealed a frail woman claiming to be my mother. “Sue, I need your help,” she pleaded. She explained she had left me to protect me from dangerous people.

Despite my mixed emotions, I let her stay, recalling Ruby’s words of kindness. At first, my mother seemed remorseful and helpful, but it didn’t last. One evening, I caught her stealing my jewelry. “What are you doing?” I demanded. She tried to justify it, but I felt betrayed.

“You have so much,” she said. “I thought you wouldn’t miss a few pieces.” Her words cut deep. “It’s about trust,” I replied. I couldn’t forgive her betrayal and asked her to leave. She begged for another chance, but I refused.

Later, I went to Ruby’s house. She comforted me, saying, “You took a chance on someone who loved you.” As I enjoyed her grilled cheese, I felt a mix of sadness and relief. I worried about sending my birth mother back into the world she had tried to escape, but I knew I had done what was right for me.