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?where…where did you get this?” I asked.
She wiped her eyes and looked at me, her voice shaking. “Your mother’s basement. I found it.”
Fuck. I must have had a box down there from when Caleb took my dorm stuff home after I opted to stay in Chicago after graduation.
“What…what do you think this is?” I asked.
Allison looked at me with daggers in her eyes. “What does it look like, Cedric? It’s a fucking picture of me…from years ago. What are you doing with it? Why don’t I remember you? Have you been stalking me? Has everything been a big lie?”
“Has anyone contacted you?” I asked.
She looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“When did you find this photo?”
“Earlier tonight.”
“No one has contacted you before today?”
“No…Cedric…what is this about? How do you know me? What are you hiding? Tell me…now…please!” she yelled.
No one has contacted her.
She knows nothing beyond the photo
It was time.
“God…Allison. God, I am so sorry. I need you to sit down, sweetheart, because I have to explain the picture and I have to explain everything.”
She shook her head repeatedly looking down at the floor. “I don’t want to sit…Cedric, please.”
“Allison, sit down,” I repeated in a serious tone.
She finally listened, sitting down reluctantly on the couch.
I stayed standing, knowing she didn’t want me anywhere near her. That hurt.
“Allison, first…before I tell you…I need you to know that everything and I mean, everything we experienced together was real. Please know that…please.”
She said nothing, just stared at me with her red eyes.
A tear fell down my cheek.
“The second thing is…sweetheart…that’s not you in the picture.”
CHAPTER 29
AMANDA
December 2001
My parents have lied to me for more than half my life.
That’s the thought I haven’t been able to get out of my head.
A week ago, after dinner, they sat me down in the living room and told me some things that I never in my life expected to hear. I always knew I was adopted but never knew the whole story about where I came from. I am so ashamed that my entire life as I knew it, was a lie.
The story I was told as a child was that I was given to my parents on the day I was born because my real mother didn’t want an open adoption and never wanted to even see me. My parents told me they knew nothing about my birth mother nor where I came from. Apparently, they did know something…something important…and they had agreed to tell me everything after I turned eighteen. Why they chose a random night in December, I’ll never understand, since I had turned eighteen in June.
