- 2.
“It’s over, Ash, you’re doomed.”
He clutches my shirt, his eyes wide. “Ashley,
can I be your kid now? If you leave, can I
come with you?”
Dad got the emergency call and rushed home.
My older brother cancelled his business trip
and also came home.
Compared to Mom’s frantic, flustered
behavior, Dad was strangely calm. “No need
to explain, I already knew all of this.”
“How did you know?” Everyone turns to Dad.
Dad gave Mom a knowing look. “You know, it
<
was your decision. You don’t remember?”
Mom was even more confused. “My
decision?”
“Yeah, when you were complaining that the
baby kept crying, bothering you to sleep, so
you told me to swap her out. So I picked the
one that wouldn’t cry.”
My older brother gulped, “Mom, did you really
say that?”
Mom thought for a moment, then screamed,
“I told you to change her diaper!”
Okay, so whether this lady calling herself
Sarah Miller is actually my parents‘ kid is still
up in the air, but there’s a pretty high chance
she is, seeing as she looks just like my mom
<
when she was younger.
So clearly, I’m not biologically related.
Hearing this, Sarah really put on a show.
She dramatically knelt on the floor, tears
streaming down her face. “Mom and Dad,
please don’t blame Ashley. Even though she’s
been living here and enjoying all the benefits,
it’s not her fault! Please don’t kick her out!”
“I don’t have to be part of your family, I don’t
even have to live here. Just let me be your
maid, I’ll serve you every day, take care of your every need! I’d be satisfied just being
near you.”
Dad, who always takes things literally, said,
“Alright we can fix up the storage room for
you. It’s small, but it’s easy to clean. Here’s
our chore list and expectations for you, I’ll
send it to you now.”
Sarah’s face went white as a sheet, she
looked at my mom, hoping for some support.
Mom glared at him. “Shut up! I’ll deal with your
lator.”
I start packing, but Mom stops me, tears
welling up.
“We have plenty of room, don’t leave. You
don’t even know where your real parents are,
where will you go?”
“Yeah, Ashley, don’t go back!” Sarah grabs
my arm, overacting as usual. “I’ve been
through it: I can’t let you go through the same
thing. My foster parents, they’re monsters!
You just have to pretend that you aren’t their
kid and never talk to them.”
But when no one’s around, Sarah glares at
me, all that hate bubbling to the surface.
“Why are you so dense? This isn’t your house,
you know?”
“How can you, a beneficiary of our family,
stand here and make demands, like you
haven’t already stolen twenty years of my
life?
“Even if I’m leaving, I’m waiting until the DNA
test is done first, then I’ll leave.”
I didn’t want to explain, but she keeps
pestering me and provoking me, hoping I’ll
just disappear.
I’m getting annoyed.
She’s pulling too many stunts.
She’d make these comments when my
packages are delivered: “Wow, Ashley, you
have such good taste! That coat must have
cost a fortune. Unlike me, I never spend.
money. It’s been years since I bought any
clothes.”
Mom, feeling guilty, bought her a bunch of
clothes, but she returned them without event
trying them on.
She’d look at Mom with those tearful eyes
and say, “You guys work so hard. I don’t need
anything; I’m happy just to be here with you.”
