Ms. Newman cranked the door handle, swinging the large wooden door open. With it, came a whoosh of cold winter air, swirling with snow.

Outside, stood a man maybe in his early thirties. He wore a black trench coat, and a top hat that shadowed his face. A woman stood by his side, also wearing a black trench coat. Her long and straight brown hair flowed over her shoulders in a cascade of beauty, which was peppered with crisp, white snow. Her face was angled, but her features were soft and kind. In her hands, she held a blanketed package that quietly cried.

A baby.

The man spoke in a confident but regretful tone, “Ms. Newman, we bring you our daughter. Marie Jordan. Please care for her well. We love her, and we want the best for her. We cannot express how sorry we are to have to giver her up. But it…it’s for the best.” The woman was crying, and tears strolled down her cheeks, shining in the streetlights. She held out the baby, and her hands began to shake.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jordan. We will give our utmost care to your child. She will have a long and happy life here in St. Mary’s Orphanage. Thank you, and stay safe. It’s a chilly one out there!”

As Ms. Newman said the familiar words, I mouthed them right along with her. They were the same for every poor family that came by here. I gripped the railing that looked down onto the front door.

Lies. They were all lies. Nothing Ms. Newman ever said was true. Every word that was spit from her lips was a lie. I wanted to run down the long, grand staircase. I wanted to yell at the mother and father of the precious baby and tell them not to leave her behind. Keep her. Whatever the reason you are giving her up, it would be better for her to endure that than live here.

Ms. Newman cradled the baby with care that was so fake it made me want to throw up.

“Thank you,” the woman choked, her face wet with tears. Mr. and Mrs. Jordan clasped hands, and turned into the chilled evening air. They walked out into the street, and to their car. Ms. Newman closed the door with a loud creak, shutting the winter cold and snow out.

I quietly scuttled back to my room. She couldn’t catch me in the halls. I crawled into bed and cried.

It was so unfair.