Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Beside me, Harrison’s expression has sobered again. I don’t want him to feel like he’s my shameful secret. Ironically, the reason I haven’t told my parents about him has nothing to do with him. It’s my shit. My fear about upsetting them.
Instead, I’m only upsetting Harrison. The tension between us is back, and I don’t know how to defuse it.
I call Ava when I get home from the game. Not just any call—a video call. It’s something my sister and I rarely do, so I’m not surprised when she greets me with a deep furrow of concern in her brow.
“Hey,” she says warily. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I answer. “But also not really.”
That gets me a wry smile. “What’s going on?”
I lie back against the headboard, knees up. Resting my phone on one knee, I reach for the stuffed bunny on my pillow and pull him toward me. Tiger. Tokki.
God, even my childhood bunny has a double life.
“Charlotte?” Ava pushes.
“I…uh…did something.”
“Oh shit. Are you pregnant?”
“No, nothing like that.”
I take a deep breath, the words sticking like glue to my throat. But I can’t keep this to myself any longer.
On an exhale, I blurt out, “I have a biological brother.”
Her gray-blue eyes widen. “What?”
“I signed up for one of those ancestry sites and sent in my DNA. The results came back telling me I have a biological brother.”
“When did you do this?”
“A couple months ago,” I admit, ignoring the pang of guilt that tugs at me. “And…I met him.”
“What? How? He’s not in Korea? Or did he travel to see you?”
“No, he was adopted by an American family too. He lives in Las Vegas.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know.” My voice breaks. “I didn’t know how to, and I didn’t want to upset anyone. I thought Mom and Dad might feel…betrayed, I guess? And I wanted to get to know him on my own time, without feeling pressured to introduce him to you guys or have any heavy conversations about it.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I get that. It’s a lot to process, huh?”
“So much to process. And he had it really hard growing up. His mother died not long after he was adopted, and he was stuck with his father, who I think abused him.”
Ava gasps. “Fuck. Really?”
“He has cigarette burns on his arms, and every time I bring up his dad, he goes quiet. Gets a tortured look on his face.” I bite my lip. “I keep thinking…why didn’t they take both of us?”
“Who?”
“Mom and Dad. Why did they only adopt me and leave Harrison behind?”
Her face falls, and I can see the discomfort settling in. “Charlotte. You can’t blame them for that. They probably didn’t know.”
“I can’t imagine the orphanage not telling them I had a sibling. Seems wildly irresponsible not to.” I hesitate. “What if they did know and chose not to take him? They could have spared him the childhood he had. But they didn’t, and now he’s angry and hurt, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
Ava’s expression hardens. “It’s not your place to fix anything. And it’s not fair to blame Mom and Dad for this guy’s childhood. They aren’t responsible for the life he had. They’re responsible for you. They love you.”
Anger rises in my chest, perhaps misplaced, maybe a bit irrational, but I can’t hold back the hot, burning feeling.
“You don’t get it. You have no idea what it’s like to be Harrison. To feel unwanted. You’re their real daughter. You never had to wonder if you were enough for them. If you belonged with them.”
She flinches as if I’d slapped her. She looks shocked. “Is that how you really feel? That you don’t belong in our family?”
I open my mouth to respond, but the words won’t come. I hadn’t meant to say it like that, to snap at her, and the devastated look on Ava’s face causes my chest to tighten with regret.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, suddenly feeling exposed, like I’ve ripped open an old wound and can’t close it back up. I inhale slowly. “Can we talk about this later? Maybe just let it percolate for a bit and revisit it?”
“No. Let’s talk about it now.”
“Please, Ava. Let’s drop it. I called to tell you about Harrison, not to talk about my own adoption.”
Her eyes search mine. “Char, you’re my little sister. My real sister. That’s never been in question. Not for me, not for Mom and Dad. You’ve always been enough.”
Her assurances don’t comfort me the way I want them to. Instead, they just make the guilt heavier. I can’t meet her gaze any longer.
“Can you keep this Harrison thing to yourself for now?” I ask. “I’m not ready to tell Mom and Dad yet, and I want to be the one to do it.”
“Of course. I won’t say a word. But—”