The Surrogate He Discarded

Two years.

It had been two years since Isobel last walked through the weathered iron gates of St. Marianne’s Orphanage.

The familiar u shaped gray buildings stood exactly as she remembered it, surrounded by a few fruit trees whose branches swayed gently in the morning breeze. The warm and carefree laughter of children drifted from the playground.

For a moment, Isobel simply stood there. A thousand memories washed over her.

This place had been her home for as long as she could remember until she turned 18.

It has been her refuge.

In college, whenever life became too overwhelming, she found herself returning here—not because she had grown up in the orphanage, but because it reminded her that kindness still existed in the world.

She had missed it. She had missed her little brothers and sisters.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.

One of the caregivers, an elderly woman with gray hair looked up from arranging school supplies.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

”Isobel?”

Isobel smiled warmly.

”Hello, Mama Loida.”

The woman hurried toward her before pulling her into a hug.

”We thought you’d forgotten us.”

”I could never.”

Loida laughed, wiping the corner of her eye.

”The children are going to be so happy you’re here.”

As if on cue, several little heads peeked from the hallway.

One child recognized her first.

”It’s Elder Sister!”

Within seconds, the hallway erupted with excited footsteps.

Children rushed toward her from every direction.

”Sis!”

”Sister!”

”You came back!”

”We missed you!”

Isobel laughed as tiny arms wrapped around her waist.

She crouched to their level, opening her arms as the children eagerly rushed into her embrace.

One by one, she hugged each of them tightly, remembering their names, their faces, and the little personalities she had missed so dearly.

”I missed all of you too, you’ve grown up.” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

A smile spread across her face even as tears slipped quietly down her cheeks.

The children didn’t seem to notice. They were too busy chattering excitedly, each trying to tell her what had happened during the past two years.

Isobel laughed through her tears.

”I brought something nice for everyone.” 𝑓𝑟ℯℴ𝓂

The younger children squealed and clapped their hands.

She opened the large bags she had carried inside and began handing out the carefully wrapped gifts.

”One at a time,” she said with a gentle laugh as eager little hands reached toward her.

The room quickly filled with squeals of delight.

She knelt beside them, helping the younger children untie ribbons and peel away colorful wrapping paper. Every stuffed toy, storybook, puzzle, and box of crayons was met with wide-eyed wonder, as though each gift was the greatest treasure in the world.

Watching their faces lit up, Isobel felt something inside her heal.

For a little while, the burdens she had carried, the heartache she had hidden, and the memories that haunted her all seemed to fade away.

Surrounded by innocent laughter, she confirmed that the sacrifice she made was well worth it.

This place had a way of mending even the most broken of hearts.

”So Rosalie and Joel were adopted by the same family?” She asked the oldest amonth the children.

The twelve year old girl nodded.

”Those siblings are lucky. They get to be together.” She said. She looked cheerful but her voice carried a hint of sadness.

Many children younger that her were adopted and yet it was not her turn.

”It’s alright, Hanna. Everything has its own perfect time.”

...

A few minutes later, Isobel followed Loida to the office of the director.

”The director is inside.”

Isobel nodded. She hadn’t seen her in nearly two years.

She knocked softly.

”Come in.”

The office looked exactly the same. Bookshelves lined one wall.

Children’s drawings covered another.

And in another, was a collage of the children that had been in the orphanage.

One of them was Isobel.

...

Isobel’s gaze landed on the woman behind a large mahogany desk, Director Rena Anastacia Santos, her silver hair noticeably thinner than she remembered.

She looked up from a stack of papers. For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Then a broad smile spread across her face.

”Well...”

She removed her reading glasses.

”I was beginning to think a certain young lady had forgotten an old woman..”

Isobel laughed softly.

”I could never forget you, Mama Rena.”

She walked over and embraced her.

”It’s good to see you again, Isobel. You have been through a lot girl, and my heart ached for you.” Mama Rena said and her hug tightened.

”And you.”

Mama Rena gestured for Isobel to sit down while she returned to her sit and leaned back in her chair, studying her carefully.

”You’ve changed.”

Isobel tilted her head.

”In a good way?”

”In some ways.”

Her smile faded into one filled with quiet concern.

”You’ve become stronger. But you’ve also become lonelier.”

The words caught her off guard. She looked away.

”I’ve been busy.”

The director chuckled.

”No.”

”You’ve been hiding.”

Silence settled between them.

No one knew Isobel quite the way Mama Rena did.

Long before she became successful...

Long before she learned to wear confidence like armor...

She had known the frightened young child who came here carrying burdens too heavy for someone her age.

”You still carry pain in your heart,” she said gently.

Isobel lowered her eyes.

”I thought I had learned to live with it.”

”You have.”

She smiled kindly.

”But living with pain is different from healing.”

She felt her throat tighten.

Someone had seen straight through her.

Mama Rena reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a worn photograph.

It showed Isobel surrounded by children during a birthday party years ago.

Every child was smiling.

So was she.

She slid the photograph across the desk.

”I’ve always liked this picture.”

Isobel picked it up.

”I remember this day.”

”You smiled like someone who had found peace.”

She looked at her with motherly affection.

”I hope you find that smile again.”

Isobel stared at the photograph for a long moment.

Without realizing it...

Her eyes had begun to fill with tears.