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)
Inside, she leads me into the living room, where I collapse onto the couch, still trembling from the intensity of my emotions.
“I found my brother.”
The confession flies out before I can stop it.
Mom doesn’t understand, though. “Oliver?”
“No. My biological brother. I found him, and I thought…I thought it would be okay. But he threw Tiger away. It was all I had left from before. From Korea. The only piece of my old life!”
“Honey. You need to slow down. And maybe start from the beginning. You found your brother?” she prompts, urging me to focus.
I take a shaky breath. “Yes. I found him on a DNA site. I was scared to tell you guys because I thought you would be angry or feel betrayed.”
Fresh tears spill down my cheeks.
“Anna? What’s going on?” My father’s voice sounds from the doorway.
I glance up at him, and when he sees me sitting there, concern floods his eyes.
“Peanut, what are you doing home?”
“Ed, come sit down,” Mom says. “Charlotte just told me she signed up for an ancestry site to track down her biological relatives. She discovered she has a brother.”
His expression goes serious. “Oh. I see.”
“Are you mad?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“What? I could never be angry at you for wanting to learn about your heritage,” he says, taking a seat next to me. “I wish you’d told us about this earlier. We would’ve supported you every step of the way.”
“Really?”
“Of course. We always encouraged you to learn everything you could about where you came from,” he reminds me.
“When you turned eighteen, your dad and I discussed suggesting you sign up for a site like that,” Mom admits, “but you’ve always been so resistant when it comes to anything related to Korea. I’m glad to hear you’re open to it now.”
I look between them, my heart clenching. “Why didn’t you adopt him too?”
That startles both my parents.
“Charlotte,” Mom says firmly. “We had no idea you had a sibling. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it now. The orphanage didn’t tell us. We thought you were the only child.”
“Why wouldn’t they tell you?” I choke out. “They could have saved him from everything he went through.”
“I don’t know.” Her voice softens. “Even your own adoption paperwork was a bit of a mess. The agency we worked with constantly complained how disorganized the Seoul agency was. But to neglect to mention a sibling…” She shakes her head. “I’m stunned.”
On my other side, Dad squeezes my hand. “I wish we had known, peanut. We would’ve been a family of six rather than five. But nobody can change the past. What matters now is the present. And in the present, in this moment, you are our daughter, and our daughter is hurting.”
Before I can stop them, a slew of disjointed questions leaves my mouth. “But what if I’m not enough? What if he needs more from you than I do? What if you regret adopting me?”
Mom shakes her head again. Vehemently. “You are always enough for us. Why would you ever think otherwise?”
“Because I’m not perfect. I want to be perfect for you,” I blurt out, my insecurities bubbling to the surface. “I thought if I just tried hard enough, if I showed you how smart and accomplished and capable I am, maybe I would be worth it.”
Shocked, Dad pulls me into a hug, his arms strong and reassuring. “You don’t have to be perfect, peanut. We love you for who you are, not who you think you should be.”
“I messed everything up,” I moan. “I got in a fight with Harrison, and now he hates me. He threw Tiger in the river—the stuffed bunny he gave me when I was a baby. It was the only thing I had from before you adopted me.”
Dad looks upset on my behalf. “Oh, kiddo. I’m sorry. That must have been painful for you.”
I can barely see through the tears obscuring my vision. “It was. And now I’m scared I’ll lose him and that I’ll lose you too. I kept this from you for months. I’ve been lying for months. Lying by omission, but still.”
“Sweetheart,” Mom says, “there’s nothing you could ever do that would change how much we love you. Same goes for Oliver and Ava.”
“But I’m not like Ava,” I sob. “I’m not your real daughter.”
“Charlotte!” She raises her voice, but not in anger. With deep, unwavering conviction. “You are our real daughter. You always have been. We chose you, and we will always choose you.”
I bite my lip. Hard. “But sometimes I feel different. Like I don’t really fit in. Ava and Oliver, you have a bond with them that I’ll never have. You look like them. They belong.”
“You belong too,” she insists. “You’re just as much a part of this family as your brother and sister are. Blood doesn’t make a family—love does. And we love you more than anything in this world. We’re so proud of you, and nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever make us stop loving you.”