“You still don’t see it, do you? Homegirl, I can’t see anyone kicking you out of the top spot. You know what? Fuck it. Let’s figure this bitch out,” she says with a roll of her shoulders, and with that I open the envelope and spill the contents onto the coffee table.
Daria looks through the photographs, and I go through the letters and documents that have been gathered. My adoption records and my birth certificate. My eyes are drawn to my birth mother’s name and the fact that my father’s isn’t listed. I’ve never wanted to know my birth parents, but the lack of a name piques my curiosity a little. I’m too scared to go down that rabbit hole now, though.
“D, I can’t do this. I don’t need to know the reason I was adopted, I don’t want to know anything about my biological parents either.” I already feel defeated, and I can hear it coming through in my voice.
“I don’t think you have much of a choice in that, homegirl.” I look over at her and her eyes are soft but her mouth is pulled into a frown. “It’s because of your mom.”
“What do you mean? She hates the Academy, she never would have come here. It has to have been someone else, but who else could it have been?”
“Not your adoptive mama, sweetie, she would never make you a legacy. The Harkwrights don’t care about that. They value blood and your mama isn’t yours by blood. It might not make a difference to you or me, but it does to them. You’re a legacy because of your mom. Luna, your birth mom was an Academy Girl.”
7
Unravelling A Mystery
2am and I can’t sleep. All I can think about is how my mom came here. Does that mean she met my father here? Because if that’s the case, then I have to drop out. It would mean I’m related to these guys, and I feel sick just thinking about it.
I can’t stop looking at the picture of her, Selene Starr. My birth mom, and the woman who died when I was only four. Nothing more than a distant memory, a fantasy I never wanted. There’s a reason I never wanted to know about her, and why I was so set on my mom not telling me anything when she tried to reveal the truth about my adoption. It’s because I remember things sometimes, like fragments of a dream that I can’t fit together. I know it’s of the day she died, I can still remember the fear I felt and the desperation. I can remember looking and calling out to her, begging her to get up and to make everything better. I didn’t know she was dead, at least, I didn’t know the word, but I could feel I had lost her. I didn’t know how to make her better, and to get her to hold me again.
I don’t want to know why she died or who was responsible; it doesn’t matter. All I remember is the dream of a woman who I think loved me more than anything else, and the people who came and took me away from her. Hours after she had died, I think I screamed when they took her away and then nothing. The house they took me to is barely a memory or the people who looked after me until my mom came along.
Daria took the adoption papers with her. She offered to look into it and I jumped at it. I’d rather it was her than me, I can’t handle it. I don’t need to know about her death or the pieces I’m missing, I just need to know about her time here. Despite my feelings, I need to know who my father is, or at least, was.
A noise filters under my doorway and I lie the picture down on my night side table before I slip on my dressing gown and walk over to the door. I rest my ear against the wood and wait to see if anymore noises come from there. I am half expecting Aeron to make an appearance, but I’m not sure how I feel about that. What if we are related? Oh God, all the things they’ve done and I’ve enjoyed it too. How fucked up is that?
I can hear what sounds like cupboards being opened up, and I don’t know what to make of it. I slowly open my door to see a figure hunched over and peering into my fridge.
“W-what a-are you d-d-doing?” I ask, and I watch as Tucker straightens up, before turning around to face me.
It’s hard to make out his features with the lights off, but neither of us are making any moves to turn them on. Instead, he slides his hands into his pockets, and rocks back on his heels.
“I thought you’d be asleep.”
“Oh, sorry to disturb you. Sure, just come into a girl’s room while she’s sleeping. That isn’t shady or creepy,” I say with sarcasm dripping from my tongue.
“You’re in the Academy. We can come and go as we please.” He sounds so detached and I don’t like it. My fingers are itching to hit the light switch so I can see how his face looks.
“No, you can’t, only Aeron has that right.” It’s a stupid thing to say and as arguments go, it’s weak.
“Well, I won’t tell if you won’t.” His voice holds a promise I don’t have the courage to question.
“Why are you here, Tucker?” I feel so tired, emotionally drained, and I just want to sleep the night away. If only my mind would shut off.
“I got you some bits so you can do your baking in the comfort of your room.” I hit the switch now and I see a vulnerability in his eyes for a moment before it’s gone, and I have to wonder if I imagined it.
“You did that for me? Why?”
“We know you like to go down to the kitchens at night, especially if you’ve had a stressful day. I would feel better if you didn’t do that for a little while, so I thought I would give you a reason not to have to.” Be steps a little closer, and my mind is struggling to make sense of his words.
“It’s because of Ms. Vanderbilt, isn’t it? You’re worried that it could happen to someone else. Are you doing this for all the girls?” Why do I ask these ridiculous questions? I’m never going to get a straight answer out of these guys.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tiny One. I’m just making sure you’re always accessible.” His voice drops lower, and his eyes are filled with unrestrained fury as his hands clench, and he steps even closer.
“I don’t be-believe y-y-you,” I force out as he closes the last few feet separating us. I hate how he towers over me, and I strain my neck to look into his eyes.
“Why should I care what you believe?”
“Because you do… You care.” The realization suddenly hits me, and it’s like a film has been over my eyes, but it’s finally been taken away.
“Don’t be absurd, why would I care about you? You’re delusional,” he says dismissively as he turns around, and my hand shoots out to grab his arm.
He looks over his shoulder at me, his eyes narrow and are spitting fire, but I don’t care. I move around to his front once more, my hands flinch as they fall on his chest, but I let them rest there. He isn’t trying to stop me either.
“The knives, the food. You wouldn’t do that if I was just another number. I don’t know what you feel, but you must care, even just a little. Honestly, I’m glad because right now, I’m terrified. Someone is out there hurting girls, and he’s upped his game to murder.” My voice is getting close to hysterical, and he presses his hand over my mouth to silence me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, no one has been murdered. Nothing happened, Five.” His eyes are hard, but I’m not nervous. For once in my life, I have complete clarity, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.