Only Broken

The Beginning of Me

I watch the car pull away from the mansion, its tires crunching over gravel until the sound fades into nothing. I look straight ahead at the road unfolding before me.

"I'm going to meet my biological father," I whisper.

But as soon as the words leave my mouth, doubt creeps in like a slow fog.

Did I really think this through? What if my parents were wrong about him? What if he doesn’t want me?

Nervous energy prickles my skin as the car continues on. I twist my fingers in my lap the entire ride.

The farther we go, the heavier the silence feels. When we finally pull up to a set of enormous black gates, I sit up straighter.

The driver rolls down his window and speaks to someone through an intercom. I lean forward, frowning.

"What's going on?" I ask.

He turns to me, unsure. “Apologies, miss. They’re saying this property is off-limits.”

“What? But you followed the directions, right?”

“Yes, miss. Every turn.”

My brows pinch together and I swing the door open to get a better look.

The gates loom over us—tall, black iron stretching high, flanked by a fence that disappears into the woods. Massive men in matching dark uniforms patrol the perimeter looking stoic and unreadable.

“What is this place?” I mutter under my breath.

Before I can form another thought, the gates suddenly groan open and the men surprisingly gesture for us to enter.

I stare in confusion, but climb back into the car as it rolls forward, now trailing a sleek black vehicle.

I roll down the window, letting the wind hit my face as I take in the world behind the gates.

First, we pass what looks like a small village—homes spaced apart and people moving about in purposeful rhythm. It feels oddly warm, almost nostalgic, like a memory I don’t quite remember.

Then we move beyond it, leaving the village behind as the road curves deeper into the estate. Trees line the path like guardians until we reach a clearing, and the car slows to a stop.

I step out, and my breath catches.

The house—no, the mansion—rises before me like something out of a fantasy. Five stories high, surrounded by vast land, the building is equal parts intimidating and beautiful.

Somehow... it feels familiar, even though I know I’ve never been here before.

Before I can process the thought, the front doors swing open.

A man rushes out, followed by a woman and a teenage boy.

My eyes widen. Peter. His wife and Christopher.

Is he... him?

Peter’s eyes lock with mine—hopeful, confused, and something else. I don’t know what I expected, but somehow, this... this feels right.

Everything suddenly makes sense.

Maybe my parents were right. Maybe this world is bigger—stranger—than I ever believed. And maybe… I belong to it.

“Claire—” Peter starts but I shake my head, cutting him off.

“I’m supposed to be on a plane to Miami right now,” I say, voice steady even though my heart’s pounding. “But something told me I’d regret it if I left.”

I take a step forward.

“My parents were right. I’m growing up, and I need to understand who I am… what I am. Will you help me?”

His face softens. A slow smile tugs at his lips as he steps toward me.

“Of course, Claire.”

I smile—truly smile—for the first time in what feels like forever.

“And… it’s not Claire anymore,” I say, a new sense of self blooming in my chest. “Call me Sam. Samantha.”

Peter chuckles, eyes glistening.

“Samantha,” he says, nodding. “Welcome home.”