When Adriana noticed a new customer staring at her at the coffee shop where she worked, she didn’t think much of it until he left her a note. The message inside left her breathless, questioning everything she thought she knew about herself and her life.
I’ll never forget the day my life changed. I was wiping down tables at the coffee shop when a little girl with messy braids handed me a crumpled note. As I unfolded it, my heart raced and shivers ran down my spine.
It all started a few weeks ago during my regular afternoon shift at Mad Joy Café. My name is Adriana, I’m 35 years old, and I’m probably not your typical coffee shop employee. Life has thrown me a few surprises, and here I am, saving up for a college degree. Better late than never, right?
My small one-bedroom apartment in the not-so-fancy part of town isn’t much, but it’s home. Or so I thought. Funny how one moment can make you question everything you thought you knew.
It was about 3:00 PM when the bell above the door rang and a man walked in with two children in tow.
The man looked rough. Dark circles under his eyes, a scruffy beard, and clothes that had seen better days.
The kids weren’t much better off. The little girl’s hair was a mess, and the boy’s shirt was covered in what looked like last night’s lunch. My coworker, Jen, seated them at a table by the window.
As I delivered a steaming latte to table 12, I felt like someone was watching me. It was the same man staring at me like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
I shrugged, thinking he might be one of those scary men.
But then something strange happened. He ordered a pulled beef sandwich and coffee for himself, but nothing for the kids. They just sat there, staring at him as he ate.
Who brings kids to a coffee shop and doesn’t feed them? I wondered.
I wanted to walk over and tell him what I thought. But then I caught myself. Who was I to judge? Maybe they had already eaten. Maybe they wanted something else to eat.
I tried to focus on my work, but I could feel his eyes following me. I can’t describe how uncomfortable it was.
Then, as I was clearing a nearby table, I saw him hand the little girl a folded piece of paper.
I watched as he pointed in my direction and said, “Give her that.”
My heart skipped a beat.
What was happening? I pretended not to notice and continued working, but my hands were shaking as I piled up the plates.
What happened next was even stranger. The man stood up, left some money on the table, and walked out without the children.
At first, I thought he might have gone out to smoke or take a call.
But five minutes passed. Then ten. The children sat there, silent as mice, staring at their hands.
That’s when I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked over to their table, crouching down to their level.
“Hi,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “When is your dad coming back?”
The little girl looked at me with big brown eyes. Without a word, she handed me the folded paper. As I took it, a strange feeling of déjà vu washed over me. My fingers trembled as I unfolded it.
“Oh my God,” I gasped as I read what was written on it.
These are your children. You need to take care of them.
And beneath the words was a hastily scribbled address.
I looked at the note, then at the kids, then back at the note. Was this some kind of sick joke? But as I looked at their little faces, something inside me stirred. A strange familiarity I couldn’t explain.
“I’ll be right back,” I managed to tell the kids.
I stumbled into the back office where my boss, Mike, was doing some paperwork.
“Mike, I… there’s an emergency,” I said. “I have to go. Right now.”
He looked up, his brow furrowed.
“Adriana, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I shook my head, unable to explain. I didn’t know why I couldn’t say anything. It was like someone had shut my mouth.
At that moment, I really thought Mike wouldn’t let me go.
But to my surprise, he nodded.
“Go ahead. Deal with what’s happening to you. We’ll get through this.”
What? I thought. Am I dreaming?
Mike wasn’t usually this understanding. I mean, he wasn’t one of those understanding bosses who only existed in a parallel universe.
Anyway, I thanked him quickly and headed back to the kids’ table.
“Hey,” I said quietly. “How about we go for a ride?”
They nodded silently and followed me to my beat-up Corolla.
As I buckled them in, my mind raced. What was I doing? Taking strange kids to a random address? But something in my gut told me I had to follow through.
I quickly got behind the wheel and typed the address into my phone. It pointed to a house in a neighborhood about 30 minutes away.
“Okay,” I smiled at the kids. “Let’s go.”
A hundred questions ran through my mind as I drove toward the address.
Who were these kids? Why did that note say they were mine? And why did looking at them hurt my heart in a way I couldn’t explain?
Little did I know that the unknown destination I was headed toward would answer all of my questions.
We soon reached a small, unassuming house on a quiet street. I could feel beads of sweat running down my temples as I parked my car there.
“Wait here,” I told the kids, but they unbuckled their seatbelts and followed me anyway.
As I approached the house, I noticed the front door was slightly ajar.
“Hello?” I called out. “Is anyone there?”
Silence.
“Hello?” I tried again.
Silence.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. The house was eerily quiet, but it felt familiar. Toys were scattered across the living room floor. Family photos lined the walls. And then I saw something that made my heart beat faster.
In the middle of the picture frames was a photo of a happy family of four. A husband, wife, and two children. But the craziest thing was, the woman in the photo was me.
Me with the man from the coffee shop. Me holding a baby, with a little girl sitting on my lap. The same girl who had handed me the note.
We were all smiling, happy.
My legs were shaking and I immediately grabbed the back of a chair to steady myself.
“How… how is this possible?” I whispered. “I don’t remember any of this. Who are these people? Why am I in these pictures?”
At that moment, a knock on the door startled me. I froze, torn between hiding and answering.
Then, taking a deep breath, I walked to the door, grabbed the handle, closed my eyes, and opened the door.
When I opened my eyes, an older woman was standing in front of me. Her eyes widened, then filled with tears.
“Adriana, honey,” she whispered, reaching out to touch my face. “You’re home. You’re finally home!”
I stepped back, overwhelmed.
“I… I don’t understand,” I stammered.
The woman ushered us in as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The children ran toward her, hugging her legs.
Distraught, I watched as she headed toward the kitchen, put on a kettle for tea, chattering as if we did this every day.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, she sat down across from me, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug.
“My name is Margaret,” she said softly. “I’m your mother, Adriana.”
I shook my head.
“That’s impossible. I don’t… I don’t have any family.”
Margaret’s eyes filled with sadness.
“Two years ago, you were in a car accident. It left you with severe amnesia. When you woke up in the hospital, you didn’t remember anything. Not your husband Tyler, not your children Katie and Luke, not even me.”
As she said the children’s names, she gestured to the little girl and boy who were now sitting quietly on the floor, coloring.
“You ran away from the hospital,” Margaret continued. “We looked everywhere for you, but it was like you disappeared. Then, a month ago, Tyler spotted you working at that coffee shop. He was afraid that if he approached you directly, you would run away again. So, he came up with this plan…”
Suddenly, fragments of memories began to surface in my mind. The screech of tires. The crack of metal. The overwhelming panic that had made me run away.
“I… I remember the accident,” I whispered. “The fear. And then… nothing. Just a big empty space where my past should have been.”
Then I looked at Katie and Luke. They were my children. The missing pieces to the puzzle of my life. Suddenly I understood why my small apartment had never felt like home, why I had always felt incomplete.
A few minutes later, the front door opened and the man from the coffee shop walked in. It was Tyler, my husband.
A flood of memories came flooding back when our eyes met. Our first date, our wedding day, the birth of our children. I suddenly remembered everything.
He approached slowly, as if afraid I would run away. But when he put his arms around me, I didn’t push him away.
Instead, I found myself holding him in my arms, breathing in his familiar scent. For the first time in two years, I felt whole.
“Welcome home, Adriana,” Tyler whispered, rubbing his hands gently over my back. “You’re finally back.”
I spent the next few weeks reconnecting with my family, slowly piecing together the fragments of my forgotten life. Tyler, Margaret, and the kids supported me in every way they could.
I still have a lot to remember and rebuild, but I’m grateful Tyler left me that note that day and brought me back to my children.