Ellie Hope loves to unravel secrets. But with each new secret she uncovers her need to find the truth of who she is increases. With an unlikely partner and unknown crush Ellie sets out to discover the truth about her past and present.
This is the t...
Every morning, instead of seeking Savannah out in the halls, I now search for Darren. Excitement thrumming through my body, giddy and full of nerves.
Luckily he's much easier to spot than Savannah is and I skip up to him, taking his arm as I do.
"Good morning!" I beam, looking up at him before my eyes notice the purple hue that spreads along his jaw. "What happened?!"
He crooks his elbow, something he's done every single time I've linked my arm with his. I like it, the formality of it, likes he's escorting me around. I've decided he doesn't realize he does it but it doesn't stop me from smiling at the gentlemanly gesture.
"Peter punched me." He says matter of factly.
As if getting punched in the face were just a typical weekday afternoon.
"What?" It is not a typical weekday afternoon activity for me but beyond that, Darren? Doing something to cause someone to punch him? What?
"We got in a fight." He tells me.
I'm even more flabbergasted at this, the words Darren and fight do not belong in the same sentence. I can't even conjure up what that could look like. Or why it would be.
"Holy crap Darren." I reach up to run my hand over the discolored angle of his jaw but stop short, "does it hurt?".
"A little."
He seems fairly unaffected by the fact that his face is purple and his brother punched him, shrugging it off like this isn't the first time such a thing has happened.
"Are you and Peter okay?" I ask him, wanting to know exactly why they fought but also realizing I'd just come off as very nosey.
Darren's eyebrows knit as he stares back at me, his body language a mixture of nerves and confusion. "I think so. He's not. He's cutting again. But he's home so..." he stops his sentence, dark blue eyes widening before he says "don't tell anyone, please."
"Oh I know, I mean I've known." I confess, watching as he shifts back from me in surprise as we come to a stop in the hall. "Sorry I probably should have said something."
"He didn't want people to know, is all." He mumbles, glancing around at the people around us like Peter's location is classified information. "How'd you know?"
My eyes drift to his chin, the center of the bruise a deep purple with blotches of red and blue. The discoloration billowing out across his pale skin, shadowing his jawline. "Before mama married mom, her partner died. She goes to this grief group every so often. Your mom goes too."
"Oh." The sound barely reaches my ears, rather I watch his lips form the sound.
"I guess your mom was talking about Peter one night. I just overhead my moms and I only heard he left college and moved back." I clarify hurriedly.
"He dropped out."
Swallowing down the questions that want to spill out of me I sort through a proper response. Yes Peter Hannigan is still quite intriguing to me. But Darren is more so and I don't want Darren to be bothered if I start to pry for more answers to the mystery of his brother. So I keep them to myself and decide that it's my turn to offer a pinky.
"I swear I have not and will not say a thing." I vow, my pinky raised in the air as I duck my head closer with my lips pouted ready to seal it with a kiss.
The smile that spreads across Darren's face is two things. Rare and beautiful.
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I'm at the kitchen table working through some homework when mom and mama appear. A united force which means I'm either in trouble, not that that's a real thing, or they have news.
"Hey baby girl." Mom says as they both give me a hug.
Instantly I'm on edge, it's not that they're not usually affectionate but this is a little much and my spine prickles with unease.
"Hi." I say guardedly.
Watching them with full on skepticism, they take a seat across from me, mirroring each other as they fold their hands gingerly in front of themselves.
"You're freaking me out." I state. "What is going on?"
Mama is the first to try and ease the tension they've dumped on me, reaching her hand across the table for mine. Mom, though, still sits stiff and awkward across from me.
"Well mom reached out to the adoption agency." Mama says and I feel my heart stop.
It comes to a screeching halt, my eyes widen, breath and words lodged in my throat. "Okay?" I croak out.
Mom clears her throat, her hands gathering mine and Mama's in her own. "Well you were right about your mom. And her family doesn't want contact."
I snap my eyes shut, hoping to hide some of the devastation that blows through me from my moms. I try to tell myself that this was expected, I already knew this was probably the outcome, that it shouldn't hurt, that it doesn't matter.
But it feels like a crack, one that just ran along the surface of a solid vast stone. Only now someone has lodged a nail in crook of the crack, following it up with a consistent firm tap until the nail digs itself deeper and pieces of the stone crack and splinter off, never to be truly whole again.
"But your biological dad is interested." Mama blurts, her fingers squeezing my hand tighter. "He kept his information updated with adoption agency incase you ever wanted to reach out."
"Wha.." I can't finish the word, my mind a jumbled mess as I take in all the information.
"His name is Alexander Hopkins, he goes by AJ and this is his address and phone number."
She slides a piece of paper across the table to me, my mom's precise cursive sprawled across it.
"I would suggest writing a letter first." Mama says, smiling warmly at me.
"Yeah maybe don't blindside him with a phone call Ellie." Mom adds with a little less finesse than Mama.
I shrug my shoulders, wiping at the tears that have found their way to my eyes as I pick up the piece of paper. It feels surreal, like all the questions I've had throughout the years, all the days spent searching, chasing answers about who I am, who I came from, they could all be at the end of this tiny unsuspecting piece of paper. It's overwhelming, terrifying but I'm also eager to move past this point.
So as I read his address over again and again in my mind, committing it to my memory as I say "I don't know, blindsiding people is sort of fun."
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Clue 1:
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