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─────── ☆*･゜ﾟ･*♡ ───────
Thursday, March 27th
─────── ☆*･゜ﾟ･*♡ ───────
Jen left the living room to get the documents that she said she had on hand. A few minutes later she comes back holding a manila folder in her hand. She hands them to me.
The first document was a copy of a birth certificate. My eyes widened at whose it belonged.
"Is this...?" I ask, running my eyes over all of the information on the document.
"Yes, I was able to get a copy of your brother's birth certificate days after you were able to come home with us," Jen says.
Vincent Hart born on January 4th at 2:32 p.m.
He was only a few minutes older than me.
"A-and you don't know where he ran off to?" I ask.
Jen shakes her head. "The agency said that he would move from house to house, but things would happen in those houses and the fosters would get shut down. Luckily, I think the last foster house he was in was here in California. It was nearby in Shady Hollow."
The town sounded familiar. I'm sure it was the same town that Arson had mentioned that I should stay away from. It was a bad town filled with trouble and people you didn't want to come across.
There was no evidence that he would still be there if he had run away.
"Any information on his biological parents?" Evangeline asks.
"His mother died in a car crash when he was three. Your father was in prison when your mother gave birth," Jen says, "I did some digging to find out more about your family line for potential diseases and stuff and that's how I came across your father."
She pulls out some crime scene photos and court documents.
"W-what's this?" I ask, flipping through the pictures.
"He was imprisoned for manslaughter. He and his brother were in a hit and run. They killed a boy and ran from the crime scene," Jen says.
My father was a criminal. Disappointment pooled inside of me.
Evangeline puts her hand on top of mine that laid on my knee. "You should still go and talk to him. You can visit him."
I check the last document which happens to be none other than his mugshot. I stared at the photograph in silence. We had different eye colors, but we did look similar. I assumed that I looked more like my mom than my own dad.
"You guys look sort of alike," Evangeline comments, "Just imagine if you found your twin."
"I-I can't imagine another Ambrose walking a-around t-town," I say, shaking my head. "Are there any p-pictures of my mom?"
