That night at the office has never left my mind. I am nineteen years old now, and I still haven't recovered. I never will, it will never fade from my mind. That night, the people I thought were my parents were arrested. I learned the whole story weeks later, but I didn't want to hear it. The people that I called Mom and Dad for fourteen years were put behind bars. I would never be reunited with my real parents, and that was a scar nothing could mend. I would never visit my fake parents in prison. I would never forgive them for what they did. They didn't hurt me, but they hurt my mind. I had lived a false life for over a decade, and I could never get my childhood back. I was living on my own now, in America. I had battled with myself for a long time, deciding what to do. A part of my wanted to go back to Lisbon to live with Fatima. A part of me wanted to see Estevo again. But, I couldn't do that. I could never go back to Portugal, or Estevo. Those were my happiness, but they weren't true. I could never go back to a country my real parents were killed in. I couldn't even begin to describe Fatima's reaction. We were both curious as to if her parents knew about the kidnapping. This was a question we may never get answers to. I still had some memories of Charles and Mary. It was still hard for me to get over my false life. I was still recovering, and still learning. I went to France. I stood under the Eiffel Tower. I saw Mary crying. I saw Mary running and hugging me. I saw Charles gasp as he saw me for the first time in fourteen years. Most of all, I gasped. Nobody would believe me if I told them I saw my dead parents, so I kept it my little secret. I knew Mary and Charles knew I was okay now, and I firmly believed they could finally be peaceful. I knew they didn't have to worry anymore. And finally, I knew I wasn't crazy for not fitting in, I was right. I belonged in one place, and that was with my real parents. As I couldn't physically live with them, I could. As they physically didn't watch me grow up, they did. As they physically never met the teenage me, they did. And now, I was going to meet them. Every day I looked in the mirror I saw Mary. Everyday I looked in the mirror I saw Charles. Every day I woke, I felt my parents. I felt as if I finally belonged. I finally belonged because I was finally reunited with them.