by Jamie White
She shut off her music player and hurried into the house, another incident coming to mind. When she was in fourth grade, she’d won a spelling bee, and the local paper had wanted to take pictures of the winners. As usual, her parents refused to let her do it, and she couldn’t understand why. She’d pushed so hard they ended up forbidding her to move on to the next level of the competition.
What are they so scared of?
The more she thought about it, the more disturbing their obsession with avoiding any public attention seemed. She wondered if she’d be able to find any answers hidden away in the house. She checked to see how much time she had left until her parents got back from a business luncheon. Relieved to see she had at least an hour before their return, Courtney decided that if her parents were hiding anything that could answer that, it would be in the attic.
As a kid, she’d been terrified of the attic and she never bothered going in there as she got older, so where else would they put something they didn’t want her to see? Courtney climbed up the stairway with a determined stance. She supposed the chances of finding anything were slim, but she had to try.
She plowed through several trunks’ worth of stuff with an ever-increasing sense of defeat. Each trunk brought more old drawings, school assignments, ribbons, and other mementos that shed little or no light on the problem. Still, seeing what massive hoarders they were gave her hope she would find something.
Courtney checked the time again and decided she could rummage through another trunk before she’d abandon the task for the day. She wanted to quit a little early in case they got back sooner than planned.
As she opened the large trunk, her nostrils were once again assaulted with the stench of something left to collect dust for too long. She sneezed and blinked against the debris that got in her eye. This one seemed like it’d been neglected longer than the others, and she cursed herself for not checking it first.
She poked through the papers, skimming past some old photos of her parents, scattered receipts from different places, and a picture of some people she was sure she’d never met. Even so, they looked vaguely familiar, and Courtney assumed she must’ve met them at some point when she was still too young to retain much.
The rest of the trunk contained much of the same, and Courtney felt as though she’d wasted her time. She began to think that investigating their room might have been a better use of her time, although she didn’t know how she would manage that without leaving evidence of her intrusion. She hadn’t seen them coming up to the attic for years, so she doubted they would notice she’d disturbed anything if they were to enter the space now, except for the couple of spots where she’d brushed off dust. Even so, she was confident they were too small to be noticed, and her parents probably wouldn’t be up before another layer built up to take its place.
She made sure everything was as she found it, then went back outside to listen to music some more and mull over what to do next. She had a feeling whatever it was, she needed to do it quickly.
By the time her parents came back, something else had begun to disturb her. Her parents had never been big picture takers, but they had at least taken a few snapshots at every birthday party and holiday she could remember. The problem was, none of those pictures showed her looking more than two years old. They had explained that to her years ago, but their story failed to satisfy her in retrospect.
Once she’d gone up to her room for the evening, Courtney pulled a photo album out of her closet that she hadn’t looked at in ages. It mostly featured some vacation shots and a few from birthday parties. Courtney carried the album over to her bed and sat down. She flipped through the pages, smiling at a few of her and her friends making silly faces. Several more pictures featured Courtney wearing Mickey ears at Disney, her parents on a boat, and one of them standing in front of an old car. When Courtney flipped the page, she came across a portrait of her family from when she was ten. They wore formal clothing and Courtney’s hair was pulled into pigtails. Something about it attracted her attention, so she decided to study the shot in depth, and certain details began to make her stomach tighten.
Her father’s nose had a strong, roman look that complemented his dark hair and round face. Her mother’s brown locks cascaded past her slim shoulders, while her round eyes and button nose made for an interesting combination. Each detail she noticed made her discomfort even worse. She hadn’t noticed before, but she suddenly realized something terrible.
I look nothing like them.
Chapter Seven
Courtney sleepwalked through most of the next day. She couldn’t stop thinking about those pictures. Why had she never noticed just how little she favored her parents? Now that she’d seen that other snapshot, the lack of family resemblance was obvious. In her typical imaginative way, more than a few explanations for this played through her mind. As far as she was concerned, even the most benign explanation of being adopted was repulsive to her. Why would they have spent so many years lying to her instead of just coming clean early on?
The possibilities ran wild in her mind — one in particular that would make their refusal to let her be featured in the paper or on TV make sense, but she tried to banish it before it could take root deep in her psyche. That was just too much to contemplate. Still, she couldn’t push it aside completely. If her fear was right, there was little chance of them admitting it to her, so she had to keep that in mind when considering her next move.
A shrill sound snapped Courtney back to reality. As she surveyed the room, she noticed some of her classmates gathering up their books and chatting while others were already exiting the room. She shook her head, amazed she’d managed to space out like that. She was going to have to get a grip before any of the teachers noticed and called home. Courtney gathered her things, and then rushed to her next class. She was in such a hurry, she didn’t notice the person coming around the corner until it was too late. Courtney found herself sprawled on the floor with some of her papers scattered beside her.
“Courtney, are you okay? I’m sorry… I didn’t see you coming.”
Courtney looked up into the concerned gaze of one of her fellow drama club members, Angela. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really paying attention. I was too busy thinking about the play.”
Angela picked up some of the papers on the floor while Courtney straightened up and reached for her notebook. “We’d better watch ourselves or we’ll walk off the dang stage,” she said with a laugh as she handed some of the stray papers to Courtney.
“Thanks,” she said with a sheepish smile. “See ya.”
“Bye.”
Courtney’s cheeks heated with embarrassment as she walked away. She couldn’t believe she’d been so careless. In all her years at Elkswood High, she had never even come close to colliding with another student, not even in her first-day induced panic back in freshmen year. Sighing, Courtney continued to her class with a purposeful stride. She’d push everything but schoolwork out of her mind for the rest of the day until she could talk to Sam about it.
****
Courtney raced home after school that day instead of chatting with some of the drama club kids. There was a lot she had to do, and she wanted to make sure she had enough alone time to get it all done.
“Mom? Dad?” Courtney’s voice echoed through the house as she strained her ears for any sign someone was home. A couple more calls for her parents and a quick sweep of the house showed her she was in the clear.
The knowledge quickened her pace and made her stand taller. She went back up to the attic and opened the mystery trunk again. She dug through the piles of old photos and papers, stopping when she came across that random picture of a couple.
The faded image was tattered in a couple of spots, but it was clear enough for her to see see the people who’d seemed so familiar the last time. The woman in particular drew Courtney’s attention. She felt like she knew her. As she examined the features more closely, her throat caught. The woman had a classic baby face with ears
that were slightly disproportionate to the rest of her face, emphasized by the tight bun the woman wore.
Courtney dropped the picture into the trunk and hurriedly closed up the attic before making her way to the upstairs bath. Courtney stood in front of the mirror, inspecting every feature of her face with a critical eye before digging out a hairbrush and a hairclip from the vanity drawer. Courtney pulled her hair up in the same style the woman in the picture wore.
She stared at her reflection for several minutes, struck by the difference. She usually left her hair down because her ears had always been the thing that bothered her most about her appearance. She thought they were huge, so anything that detracted attention from them was preferable in her book.
The effect was enough to make her head spin. How was she almost a perfect image of someone she’d never met? Was that woman her real mother? If so, why would her parents have a picture of her sitting around in the attic? The whole thing was beginning to give her a headache, but she wasn’t about to back down now.
With one swift motion, Courtney pulled the clip out of her hair and shook her head to allow her hair to settle back into its normal style. A part of her wondered if she should’ve left it in so she could see her parents’ reactions. If they were hiding something connected to that picture, Courtney was sure they’d react to the change.
“No, I’d better not… at least not for now,” she muttered to herself. Such a move could backfire badly if her worst-case scenario was true. Courtney tossed the clip back into the drawer along with her brush, and then shoved the drawer closed.
Courtney walked back downstairs and checked the time. She still had a couple of hours until they got back, so Courtney decided to search the attic further. A few minutes later, she once again was sorting through the contents of the trunk. Finally, she found an envelope with strange names scrawled across it. The address was unfamiliar as well, but if she remembered right, her parents went to college in that same town.
Courtney opened the envelope and pulled out a little piece of stationary with a cryptic message typed on it.
“Enclosed is everything you need. Leave tonight,” Courtney read aloud. What did that mean, and why on earth would her parents have a letter like this? So far, this endeavor was only leading to more questions.
She couldn’t think of any scenario that made the note less foreboding. Who wrote it and why would her parents have such a thing to start with? If anything, she had even more questions than before. Courtney reluctantly put the paper back where she found it and eased the trunk closed. Time was running out, so she hastily closed up the attic and made her way into the kitchen to heat the leftovers they were having that night.
She paced about the kitchen as she waited for the food to heat, randomly washing dishes, putting away containers, and performing any other tedious task she could find to pass the time. Just as she was about to start sweeping the non-existent dirt off the floor, her father’s voice carried through the house.
“Courtney, are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m in the kitchen. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Seconds later, both of her parents walked through the door. Her father gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, Courtney. How was school?”
“Good,” she replied. “We did some new acting exercises in Drama today.”
They both smiled, although she could swear the expressions didn’t quite reach their eyes. It was as though they were trying not to make their feelings about the last part of her day known.
“Sounds like you had fun,” her mother replied.
She opened the fridge and rummaged through the contents. Courtney watched as she pulled a pitcher of tea out and set it on the table. “Why don’t you go ahead and get cleaned up, and I’ll finish in here?”
“Actually,” Courtney said, “do you mind if I skip out? I’m kind of wiped and I’ve got a huge paper to start tonight.”
“Are you sure? You might have a lot of work to do, but you still need to eat.” Her father took a plate her mother handed him and set it on the table with a concerned expression on his face.
“Really, I’m fine.”
“I guess so,” her mother replied. “Just make sure you don’t stay up too late, okay?”
“Got it,” Courtney agreed. “See you guys later.” With that, she hurried out of the room, desperate to have the time alone to sort through everything she’d seen that day. She decided her next step was going to be searching for her birth announcement. She wasn’t inclined to go searching their room, so she decided checking the newspaper archives would be the best way to go. As far as she knew, her parents had never kept a baby book, and she’d only seen her birth certificate once, briefly. At the time, she’d been too young to really pay attention to it, but she remembered her parents had brought it when they registered her for school. Since that day, she hadn’t seen it.
Her plan set, Courtney decided to read for a while before bed to keep up the appearance of working. She kept a notepad open next to her in case they decided to check in on her. Before long, the words began to swim in front of her eyes and she drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Courtney woke with a start. The hazy images of a dream clung to the edge of her consciousness, but she couldn’t focus on anything concrete. All she knew was the dream had left her with a vague sense of dread that took her a while to shake. She was still trying to get rid of it as she left for school.
She strode quickly through the neighborhood, determined to get a little searching in before class. The school library wasn’t the largest one in the area, but there was a great computer database and microfiche collection that could prove helpful. Courtney decided she’d start with the computer files first, since that note implied she might not have been born here as she’d assumed.
The bright light and chirping from birds that accompanied her walk only made her clench her teeth. How on earth could she enjoy the scenery with her mind going to such dark places? Courtney just hoped to be proven wrong. She didn’t even want to contemplate the alternative.
Courtney pushed the door open and walked inside, somewhat enjoying the quiet of the early morning. Not having to worry about bumping into someone was a nice change. She slowed her pace as she got closer to the library. Courtney swallowed hard before stepping into the room. This had the potential to seriously screw with her day, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.
If they’re hiding something from you, you have the right to know.
The mental push gave Courtney the strength to enter the library and request a computer. Within minutes, she was seated before a large monitor with instructions on the proper sites to go to. She’d lied and said she was researching a genealogy project. As soon as the librarian had left her to her own devices, she began typing whatever information she could about herself into the databases.
To her disappointment, no birth announcement came up in the results, even when she switched to the address from the mysterious note in their attic. The address did, however, bring up some information for a house that had been owned by a number of families. Unfortunately, not a single one shared her name. The closest she came was a Larry and Erin Thomas. Was it possible they’d changed their name at some point? The names were oddly similar to her parents’.
Before she could switch to microfiche, the first bell rang its daily warning: Get to class now or else. Courtney seriously considered skipping to keep on with the search since she only had study hall this hour, but decided it would be best not to deviate from her normal behavior. There was so much she didn’t understand yet, and she wanted to stay under the radar until she figured things out.
****
The moment she arrived at study hall, Matthew waved her over. “Hey, Courtney! Haven’t seen you a lot lately. How’s it going?”
“Okay,” Courtney lied as she took a seat next to him. “I’ve just been crazy busy with the play and everything lately. Plus, I got a huge paper dumped on me yesterday.”
�
��Social death,” he agreed. “When are you planning to join the world of the living again?”
Courtney forced a laugh. “Things should be better next week. I hope, anyway. So, what about you?”
“Well, you know it’s been a rough time for us all without you, but we’re making do. Well, except for Jessica Simmons. She managed to get in some serious trouble with Hanson last night at the game.”
“The principal? What for?”
“Picture a whole basketball court covered in a slimy substance after a few strategically placed balloons are dropped from the ceiling. She mixed them with some normal balloons that were supposed to drop after the game if we won.”
Courtney couldn’t help the genuine laugh that came with the image. “Are you kidding me? What was she going to do if we lost? The whole thing would be pointless then.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? She’s confident and she wanted to be the first to play a senior prank. He demanded to see her today. She might even be in the office now.”
“Sounds like I missed some fun. I’ll try and make sure not to do it again.” Something about chatting with her old friend as if everything were the same made her feel better than she had in days. Maybe it was about time to confide in Sam and the others.
The pair spent the rest of study hall chatting about nothing and getting some last-minute homework done. When the bell rang, Courtney smiled as she realized thoughts of her parents hadn’t entered her mind the entire period. It was a welcome release.