Opening the door, Mum jumps up and speeds towards me, stopping in her tracks as I hold up my hand. Wyatt enters the room with Elana, her eyes are red and puffy. He gives me a nod to confirm my suspicions that he has filled her in.
“I need answers,” I say, my voice tremors at the sight of Mum.
“Okay,” Mum says. “I’ll answer anything you want, but first there’s something I need to show you. Please, wait here.”Guiding me towards an armchair, she disappears down the hall. Wyatt lingers beside the dining table, with an anxious look in his eyes.
For Wyatt, this news must come as a shock to him too, learning that he is not the only non-blood member of this family.
Elana slumps into a chair at the dining table, biting her nails and bouncing her knee. Itching to ask questions, but she must re-think it as Wyatt shakes his head and she rolls her eyes.
Tapping my foot, my mind wanders, watching the world outside. Foxes flee from the woods, dashing across farms, spooked by something.Myles perches on the arm of the chair, placing his hand on my knee to calm my twitching foot.
The scuffle of footsteps draws my focus, as Mum appears holding an old brown box. She looks at me gingerly before setting it on my lap. It is beautifully carved, a warm walnut brown with delicate spirals curving around each corner, with a large letter on top: A.
“Dad started putting together letters, notes, etcetera. We wanted to tell you about who you are one day, but the timing just never felt right. Then death took him from us too soon, and he never got the chance. I was too much of a coward. The thought of losing my daughter wasn’t something I was willing to risk.”
Mum sits on the couch opposite me. “This is all there is, I hope it’s enough to answer your questions.” She smiles at me and reaches forward to touch my knee, but pauses, deciding against it.
I stroke the box, tracing my fingers along each spiral and the letter, A. I look at Myles, and he nods for me to open it. My heart pounds, and with shaky fingers, I lift the lid.
Scrap pieces of paper fill the box, with a handwritten letter from Dad folded neatly on top. My heart skips a beat. My fingers fumble to open it, tears already welling in my eyes. I read the letter aloud:
“My dear Andi,
I planned to tell you many times, but each time the words stuck in my throat. How do I tell you that you are not ourdaughter? When in every way except one, you are. You may not share our blood, but you are and always will be our daughter. I figured it would be best to write it down, hoping it would give me the courage to speak it out loud.”
I draw in a sharp breath, continuing:
“Mum and I would travel, selling bits and pieces. This you know, but one time, on the outskirts of Eilia, we found a young woman, cradling a beautiful, dark-haired baby. She was scared. She was gravely injured and lost a lot of blood. We couldn’t believe it, hearing the woman was Princess Edrina.”
Lifting my head to Mum, I say, “She was dying?”
Mum nods with tears in her eyes. “Keep reading.”
“Princess Edrina knew one day, you would show signs of magic. When that happens, someone who would cause you harm would hunt you. She told me to find a witch, one who specialised in magical objects.We promised to keep the baby — you, safe, and love you like a daughter.
‘Andrina, that’s your real name, Princess Andrina. Edrina was heartbroken to give you up. She held you in her arms until she took her final breath; only then did we take you from her. We knew we had to get you far away from Eilia, so we came to my parents’ old cottage. You were tiny, with a full head of black hair and amazing eyes. We fell in love instantly.
‘It took a few years, but I found the witch near Zephyr. We never wanted to remove your magic like she suggested; taking that part of you, it wasn’t for us to decide. You were so happy when I gave you that necklace, it broke my heart having you promise to never take it off. It breaks my heart every day seeing you wear it and being unaware of its purpose. We only wanted to keep you safe.”
My voice breaks as tears stream down my face. Composing myself, I continue:
“There it is, my darling girl. I don’t know what kind of magic you might have, or what your family had. All I can give you is what your mother, your real mother, had with her, a few illustrations of your family.
‘Please forgive us, everything we have done was in your best interest, and I hope you can understand that as you grow. Maybe one day I will find the courage to tell you all this to your face, but just in case, at least you will have this.
All my love,
Dad.”
Wiping away my tears, I pass the letter to Myles and take out the drawings of my family. I see many similar features, hair black as night, almond eyes, high cheekbones on slender smiling faces. How did I not see this before? The Kohan family all resemble one another. Elana’s face mirrors Dad’s heart-shaped face and eyes, Mum’s nose, and hair colour. Yet here I am, so different.
Was I blind to the differences, or did I choose to ignore them?
Doesn’t matter now, I guess; I know the truth. My family, myrealfamily, is dead. Butchered by the mimicry. What do I do?Remain here with a family that is not my own? Do I belong here?
Scrambling through the box, pushing aside notes about my family from over the years, I find a drawing of a young woman in a beautiful pink dress, with a handsome young man at her side. On the back, there’s an inscription: Princess Edrina and Sir Ander.
My parents.
