In 2000, my then 94-year-old mother told me I was not her son and that she had found me in a children’s home in Riga during the German occupation. That was all she was prepared to say. She died in 2003. Initially I didn’t want to start searching, she had been a loving mother to me. Two years later I did become curious, but not knowing my real family name, I thought searching would be futile. With the help of a Latvian journalist I met Agnese who discovered intriguing things in the national archive. Amazingly enough, I eventually found my real birth certificate in Berlin which stated that I had been born in Riga in the central prison in 1942. I start searching for my mother. Will I find her or her family? Will I be able to find out something about my father?