A Different Lineage
817 Words
Arda’s fingers trembled as she set her phone down, her mind still echoing the message. Before she could process it, her phone buzzed again.
Her sister.
She swallowed, steadying her breath, and answered. “Hey, Mabel.”
“You’re not my sister.”
The words were sharp, deliberate.
“What?”
“You heard me. You’re not my sister, and it’s time you knew the truth.”
“Mabel, stop messing around. What are you talking about?”
“Ask my dad. Ask my mum.”
Mabel’s voice had never sounded so cold. She emphasized my like a knife twisting into Arda’s gut.
The line clicked dead.
For a moment, Arda sat frozen. Mabel wasn’t known for jokes—least of all something like this. She redialed, but the call rang out. Again. And again.
Heart pounding, she called her father. He answered immediately.
“My dear, you’re still up? Studying?”
Her voice came out tighter than she intended. “Dad, I need to know—where’s Mabel?”
“She’s here. What’s wrong?”
Arda pushed past her hesitation. “She said something awful to me. That I’m not her sister. She told me to ask you and mum.”
Silence.
“Dad?”
In the background, Mabel’s voice cut through. “Tell her, Dad! Tell her the truth!”
Fear rose in Arda’s throat. Her heart hammered. “Dad… is it true?”
He sighed, heavy and defeated. “Sweetheart, come home. We need to talk, face-to-face. But remember—no matter what, you’re still our baby.”
The phone nearly slipped from Arda’s grip. “I’ll be home tomorrow,” she said and hung up.
Tears welled as she collapsed onto her bed, muffling her sobs. Her life was unraveling, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Sunlight streamed through the curtains when Arda woke. For a fleeting moment, it felt like any other day—until reality came crashing back.
Her identity was in question. Her relationship was over. And someone was stalking her.
She dragged herself out of bed, moving on autopilot as she packed a bag for the weekend.
Emerging into the living room, she froze.
Jacob and Karina stood in the kitchen, locked in a kiss.
Her stomach dropped. “What the hell?”
They sprang apart, guilt scrawled across their faces.
“Arda—” Jacob started.
“Don’t,” she snapped, her voice sharp. “Luke was right about you two.”
Karina stepped forward. “Please, let us explain.”
“Explain what? That you’ve been sneaking around behind my back? God, what else have you been hiding?”
“There’s more to this than you know,” Jacob said.
She scoffed, grabbing her bag. “Save it. I’m going home.”
“Arda—” Karina began.
“Eat rocks, both of you.”
Slamming the door behind her, she stepped into the sunlight, but the warmth couldn’t touch the chill settling in her bones.
Arda barely noticed the roads or the bridge connecting the city to her parents’ town. Her thoughts circled endlessly—Mabel’s words, her father’s hesitation, and now, her friends’ betrayal.
The rustic ranch house came into view, its weathered charm unchanged. But it felt foreign now.
She parked and stepped out, spotting her parents at the door. Their strained expressions confirmed what she feared.
They enveloped her in a hug, but Arda stood stiff.
Mabel hovered on the porch, arms crossed. When their eyes met, Mabel turned and disappeared inside.
“I still love you both,” Arda said quietly, her voice breaking.
Her mother clutched her tighter. “And we love you, always.”
Moments later, seated in the living room, Arda braced herself. Her father’s hands fidgeted as he began.
“It was years ago, but it still feels like yesterday. You need to know how we found you.”
Mabel looked bored, toying with her fingers. Arda clenched her fists, fighting back tears.
Her father exhaled and started the story.
---
A younger Arthur in his thirties moved carefully through the forest, rifle steady as he tracked a deer under the full moon’s glow.
The night was alive with the hum of crickets, and the plump deer stood perfectly still, oblivious to its hunter.
But then—a baby’s cry.
Arthur flinched, lowering his weapon slightly. His pulse quickened. A baby? Out here?
The deer froze too, ears twitching.
Arthur took the shot.
The animal bolted but fell after a few staggering steps. Blood seeped from the wound.
Yet the cry persisted.
Arthur tightened his grip on the rifle, his pulse quickening. He stepped carefully over branches and moss, the forest closing in around him. Every instinct warned him to turn back, but he pressed on.
The sound pulled him deeper.
Abandonment? Or something far worse?
He wouldn’t know until he uncovered the truth.
- Writer
