"I hear them whispering every time I enter the house. Often, I wonder if my parents have lost their voices," Zoe lamented.
"Now, that last part got me laughing hard! Why would you wonder that?" Lara replied, laughing uncontrollably with her hands on her chest.
"I'm not joking! Why are you laughing like this? Maybe I should keep it to myself because you are the wrong person to share this with," Zoe said, frowning at her friend’s reaction.
"Okay, I’m listening. But you didn’t hear a word your parents were saying, so how do we conclude this issue?" Lara said, pretending to be serious.
"That’s the thing—I didn’t hear anything, but my instincts keep telling me my parents are hiding something from me. I can see it in my mom's eyes whenever she hears my voice and steps out that door," Zoe explained, trying to analyze the conversation. "Then when she comes out, I ask what the problem is, and she looks into my eyes with a fake smile and says, 'I’m fine.'"
"Whatever your parents are discussing that they haven't shared with you, I think there's a reason behind it," Lara said, holding Zoe’s hand and leading her to the bus station.
As Zoe approached the house, the door alarm beeped. Zoe held the handle and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. She had to knock on the door for her parents to hear her. Luckily, her father answered.
The door unlocked.
"Why is the door locked?" Zoe asked with curiosity.
"For security reasons," her dad replied.
"Since when did this security measure take effect?" Zoe asked as she walked into the house.
"What do you want for dinner? I can make your favorite," Zoe's mom said, interrupting the conversation.
"No, I don’t want that. I want to know what’s happening! You and Dad have been acting strangely lately," Zoe said, dropping her backpack off her shoulder.
"Why don’t you go upstairs, change your clothes, and come back? We can talk, but you have to eat first—that's the condition," Zoe's mom said as her husband patted her shoulders.
Zoe ran upstairs to change and quickly returned to have dinner with her parents.
"Now, that was fast, Zoe," her mom said, calculating the minutes Zoe spent upstairs using her fingers.
"So let's get to the point, Mom. Are you selling the house?" Zoe asked.
"No, we aren’t selling our house! Why would you think that in the first place?" her dad replied.
"Because that’s the kind of secret parents keep from their children, and with the way you both have been whispering in the house—I knew it had to be about the house!" Zoe said with a smile on her face.
"Zoe, it isn’t about the house. We’re not selling, but I don’t think you can handle this," Zoe's mom muttered as she turned to her husband, holding his hand.
"What? I can handle anything, Mom! I'm 18; I’m old enough for anything!" Zoe protested.
"Zoe, we are not your biological parents. We’ve been trying to tell you this for a while, but we haven’t dared to do so. We thought you wouldn’t be able to comprehend it," Zoe's dad said, tears in his eyes.
"That’s not true! You are my parents!" Zoe stuttered, trying to form a complete thought.
"We’re sorry we didn’t tell you all this time, darling. We thought you weren’t ready, and we didn’t know how you would react to the news," Zoe's mom said, tears streaming down her face as she held her husband's hand tightly.
"So, who are my biological parents? Where are they currently?" Zoe asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Zoe, we didn’t know your mother. Your dad and I had been trying for years to adopt until one fateful day we received a call from a hospital that they had something for us. We rushed to the hospital and found you wrapped in this old but beautiful blanket, sleeping with a bright smile on your face. At that moment, I felt like you read my thoughts." Zoe's mom paused, trying to clear the tears from her eyes.
"Then I asked the doctor about your mother, and he said she had passed away," Zoe's mom continued, continuing to cry.
Zoe couldn't hold herself any longer. She walked away from her parents and ran into her room, locking the door behind her. She lay down on her bed, unable to wrap her head around the truth she had just been told.
While on the bed, she reached for her diary and started writing down the questions she needed answers to. "Who was my mother? What was her name? Was she as beautiful as my adoptive mother? Did she possess a kind and loving heart?" These were the questions Zoe wanted answers to but couldn't find.
Thanks for reading 🧡
