It Took Me 8 Years to Find the House From an Old Photo I Inherited Anonymously – My Story

At 19, I received an anonymous box that featured a few items and an old photo of a big house. I spend the next eight years of my life trying to find it, only to discover the truth of my entire life.

I was left in a group home since I was a baby, so I have no recollection of ever having relatives or close. They told me I was left on a basket at the front door, which was so cliché in my opinion. Even if my birth parents were struggling, they could’ve found another way. They could’ve given me real parents that wanted and loved me. Alas, that didn’t happen.

You might think that babies get adopted easier, but the truth is that it’s still difficult. I didn’t get adopted, but I had a good life at the group home. My friend Kyle and I would get into all kinds of shenanigans, and we loved it.

We promised to be each other’s family when no one else was, and at 17, we started a small business, doing deliveries and errands for the people in our town. At first, we used some bikes which had been donated to the group home. But after a few months, we managed to buy a cheap car, which made things easier.

We expanded the business, and soon, we were working for three small towns. Thanks to our work, Kyle and I rented an apartment, and it felt terrific to be independent and have a home that we could say was truly ours.

For the first time ever, we bought ourselves things like a Playstation. It was a second-hand, older model, but it was amazing. We could finally start enjoying some of the childhood that other kids always got to have.

We also enrolled in community college night classes to see if we could become CEOs. We dreamed of being rich, just like many people. I honestly thought my life would not change unless one or both of us married and started our own families.

However, I received a strange call the day after I turned 19, and it was from a lawyer.

“I’m sorry. Maybe, you have the wrong person, sir. But I don’t have anyone in my life except for my friend. I don’t think someone would leave me anything,” I told Mr. Rubinstein on the phone, but the attorney insisted.

He asked me to come to his office as soon as possible, so I agreed. Kyle told me I at least had to know what it was. I went, and the lawyer handed me a box. He could’ve asked for my address and sent it. I never understood why he wanted me to come over. Still, I thanked him and walked away with the box.

I got home and opened it. There was a teddy bear, a blanket, and an old photograph on a frame. I theorized that one or both of my birth...