Chapter 2

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Okay, so before I begin. I’m having a pretty shitty time right now. I’m really busy with loads of arrangements and stuff, so I don’t know how much I’ll be uploading for the next week or so. But, who knows. I may even end up writing more. It seems to take my mind off things.

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Sitting back slowly, the information I had just received began to diffuse into my brain. I knew what the lawyer was trying to get at, and I knew what he was insinuating, but I just couldn’t believe it.

It was almost as though someone had died. The man standing in front of me had the potential to change my life.

I didn’t feel able to comprehend that I may have been taken home with the wrong person. I understood the concept and the notion, but I didn’t understand the consequences.

I mean, sure I’d seen in the news about babies who had been switched back with ease, but it wouldn’t be that easy for me.

They probably wouldn’t remember a thing, but I had spent my vital years of growing up with this family. Regardless of it I fit in or not. They never would remember. But of course I would.

“Charlotte?” my dad whispered. He said nothing more afterwards, but I think he just wanted me to look up at him. I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I had no idea how to deal with it. I suppose I was being selfish, really. I didn’t think about my family, only myself. I could only think about my identity, my happiness and what I wanted. I actually had no idea what I wanted.

I knew that I couldn’t possibly be their child, and if I was my mum was bound to have been unfaithful. I looked nothing like any of them.

Before, my explanation was an old, hidden allele that was yet to be inherited. But now, I had a better clarification for why I was so different. I very highly doubted that I was actually their child.

As I thought more into it, I remembered that there was an incident when I was first born, and that my mum had in fact told me that I wasn’t born in England.

About two days after I was born, I was rushed back into hospital. I weighed four pounds lighter than I did when first weighed at birth.

They were worried because of the rapid weight loss. But now I guess it was because I wasn’t the same person.

“Charlotte. Now please don’t dwell on anything too much right now. We need to get a DNA test. We need to be sure that you are the wrong child in this family and-”

“Don’t be stupid!” my dad interjected by raising his voice high above the volume it usually was. “Charlotte will never be the wrong child in this family. We raised her. She’s ours.”

I actually smiled slightly as he said that. Never before had I heard one of my parents talk about me in that way. It sounded and felt rather nice.

“Mr Davis,” the lawyer spoke calmly, before standing up fully. “I’d like to remind you of why I am here, rather than Charlotte’s social worker. If she isn’t yours, then legally she isn’t blood. The only way that can be achieved is through adoption.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” he spat. “We brought her up. We have every right to her.”

I looked at my dad. I wasn’t sure that I did want to stay with them. Sure, they did bring me up and everything. But I never really did feel welcome or wanted.

I knew it was probably just a teenager thing, but if I wasn’t their daughter I would want to meet my real parents. I owed them that much. But at the same time, I guess I did owe my mum and dad too.

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