***Alissa Blake***
I couldn’t think straight.
Everything felt scrambled. My stomach twisted, hands sweating, heart pounding in my chest like it was about to burst out. The paper with the old hospital records was folded in my pocket, but it felt like it weighed a ton.
I keep remembering what I heard from Eva about Morgan’s hospital intake, with a broken arm when she was just a two-year-old baby.
As I always do since I got here, I dropped Morgan off at school without saying a word. She didn’t even notice—she was all excited about the science field trip that afternoon. Smiling, she waved her little hand goodbye, with no idea that my world was falling apart inside.
When I left there, I went straight to the church. I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I had to face it. They weren’t going to stall me anymore.
I parked the car and walked through the entrance without hesitation. That clean white façade, that symbol of holiness… what a joke.
I pushed the door open hard and headed straight for the side hallway where their office was. Knocked twice before pushing the door open.
They were there. Sitting like saints. My father flipping through the Bible, my mother typing something on her phone.
“Alissa?” My father looked up, confused. My mother stiffened.
“Where’s Morgan?” she asked as she would mind, leaving me with every opportunity she gets.
“At school. For now, but I have something important to talk about.” I replied.
They exchanged that look. The look of someone who knows the shit’s hit the fan.
“I know everything, I know you’re not my parents. That I was adopted. That you worked with Eva to cover it all up. And that Morgan… well, she wasn’t even planned, was she?”
My mother stood up abruptly.
“Who told you that lie?!”
“It’s all here.” I pulled the papers from my pocket and threw them on the table. “The records. Your signature as the nurse. The name of the missing baby. Your name. And a bunch of documents proving Morgan was taken to the hospital with a broken arm at two years old.” It was a lie, I didn't have those documents, only about Morgan, but I needed to try to see their faces.
They were silent for a few seconds. My father leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“See what happens when you start digging into the past? You’ve always had that habit of questioning everything. Never accepted the family you had.”
“Family?” I laughed, but it was a sad laugh. “You abused me my whole life. Made me believe I was the mistake, the disappointment. And now I find out I wasn’t even your daughter?”
My mother took a deep breath. There was no way out now.
“Yes. You were adopted. Eva was our friend. She got pregnant when she was young, their parents were rigid, and she couldn’t raise the child... you. We thought we were doing the right thing.”
“Doing the right thing? Raising me like trash in your own house? Leaving me without food, without love, locking me in dark rooms? If that was right, what would wrong look like?”
“You were difficult,” my father snapped. “Defiant. Had a demon in you from a young age. We tried to correct you. You were always rebellious.”
“Maybe I was just begging for love,” I shot back, feeling my throat tighten. “You just used me to look like good Christians, didn’t you? The troubled daughter who was ‘saved.’ The poor girl turned into an example… until I grew up and wasn’t useful anymore.”
“Alissa, you don’t understand,” my mother tried to justify. “You were our faith project.”
“Faith project?” I repeated, outraged. “I was a child!”
“It was the mission God gave us,” she said, certain. “And when Morgan came along… well, it was an accident. We weren’t supposed to be able to have children anymore, but God wanted it that way.”
“So you decided to do things differently with her? Why didn’t she get punished, didn’t go hungry, didn’t get locked doors?”
“Because she’s obedient now, she learned fast,” my father answered. “She helps us. She knows her place.”
“She was TWO YEARS OLD when she broke her arm, and you did not explain at the hospital.”
“I already told you it was an accident,” he said coldly.
“No. The accident was letting me live in this house. The accident was my not leaving sooner.”
They looked at me with contempt. The same look they’d worn for as long as I could remember.
“You’ll never be able to prove anything,” my father said. “You’re just the lost daughter who came back with stories. No one will listen to you.”
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But I’ll try.”
“You think you’re going to take Morgan from us? “She loves us. She doesn’t even understand what you are. To her, you’re just the weird sister who showed up out of nowhere.”
“She’s still a child. But she’ll grow up. And when she does, I want her to know who I was. I want her to have the chance I never did.”
I started to walk out.
“You think the world’s going to believe you now that you’re involved with that drugged-up singer? That you sold yourself for fame?”
“Maybe not.” I stopped at the door. “But I learned from you never to underestimate a well-told story. And mine is just getting started.”
I left before I cried right there. Got in the car. I felt broken, dirty, tired.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I answered without thinking.
“Alissa?” The voice was low, steady, but I recognized it at the same moment.
“Cyrus?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes. I’m in town.”