Glenda woke up. It was pitch black in the motel room, and the clock read 2:13 am. She was sprawled horizontally across her bed, still wearing her clothes from the previous day. Sweaters covered her teeth from having not brushed them, and her phone lie on the floor, still flipped open. Glenda then remembered the sequence of events of 5 hours earlier: Glenda had listened to her voicemail, heard a message from her biological daughter telling her that she had found her, and then Glenda fainted. For the second time that year.
Glenda briefly considered the fact that she should probably see a doctor regarding all of her recent fainting, then brushed off the thoughts – she had more important things to worry about. She picked the phone up from off the floor. Thankfully, it hadn't been cracked or even scratched by the fall. She dailed one to reach her voicemail. "You have no new messages," said an automated voice. "To listen to old messages, press one." Glenda did as she was told, and soon enough her daughter's message began for the second time. "Hi, Glenda. Or, well, I guess I should say Mom. My name's Caitlyn and I'm your daughter. I'm 17 years old and I live in an orphanage in City Block. Um, well this is really awkward, I was hoping to talk to you, so give me a call when you get this. Thanks."
Whoa. Once again, Glenda was dumbfounded. So many different feelings and emotions tugged at her. First off, she was relieved to not have to make the decision as to whether or not she would contact her daughter ... but at the same time, she was a little freaked out and overwhelmed as to whether it was the right decision. And, of course, she was extremely impressed that this girl had the guts to contact Glenda. Aware of how anxious Caitlyn must have been, Glenda hit the re-dial button and the phone began to ring. After 3 rings, an elderly woman whose voice Glenda recognized picked up. "Hello, St. Magdaleyn's, how can I help you?"
"Um, hi, my name is Glenda..."
"Glenda! I recognize that name! Lovely to hear from you! Have you decided to donate some more items for the orphans? Or would you like to come help out over here?"
"Oh, haha, no actually... I received a call yesterday. From a girl named Caitlyn."
"Oh. Caitlyn did make a phone call yesterday. The children are actually at school right now, but I'll have her call you back later." And with that, the nun hung up the phone.
Meanwhile, Caitlyn sat in the parking lot, skipping class. She peaked in through the window and saw the nun hang up the phone. Caitlyn was more anxious and nervous than she had ever been in her life. It was one thing for her to call her mom, but a complete other thing for her to call a woman who she wasn't even sure was her mom. The private investigator she had hired – The Detective, as he called himself – had died a few days ago, leaving Caitlyn hanging with 3 possible leads as to who her mother was (oddly enough, another random person in City Block had also died a few days ago, but that was an entirely different story). With nothing else to go by, Caitlyn got up the nerve to call all 3 women, but so far, none had called back. She watched as the nun scribbled on a post-it note and stuck it on the phone. She then walked away.
Caitlyn had to see what that note said. She looked left then right, then tip-toed into the back door of the orphanage and to the phone. On the purple post-it note read "For Caitlyn – call Glenda." Caitlyn's eyes grew wide and her stomach fluttered. She gulped down a mouth-full of spit, ignoring her body's signs that she was about to throw up. She slowly dialed the number she had memorized at this point after staring at it for so long. Well, she thought, I hope this means I've found my mom.
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