A Queen Returns

Chapter2

I searched for hours but found nothing about my birth mother. Frustrated, I grabbed my keyboard and hurled it across my bedroom.

How could there be absolutely nothing about her? It was like she had never existed.

A soft knock sounded at my door. I already knew it was my father, but I still wasn’t ready to face him.

I stayed silent.

A moment later, the door cracked open just enough for him to peek inside.

“Bug, can your mother and I come in for a minute?”

I looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding.

He opened the door wider, and both he and my mother stepped into the room. They sat carefully on the edge of my bed.

“Bug,” my father began gently, “I know you’re upset with us, and you have every right to be. But please understand—we never wanted you to think you weren’t loved.”

I sat up straighter, hugging my knees to my chest.

“But you lied to me,” I whispered. “We’ve never lied to each other before. I’ve always been honest with you. Always.”

My mother immediately started crying again.

“I know,” she said through tears. “I know we lied, and I’m sorry. We were scared. Your father and I couldn’t have children of our own, and when we found you…” She smiled weakly through her tears. “We thought you were a blessing from God.”

That caught me completely off guard.

They had never told me they couldn’t have children.

All these years, I had assumed they simply didn’t want another child yet.

I swallowed hard before asking the question that had been tearing me apart since they told me the truth.

“Why did my birth mother leave me? Did she not want me?”

The words barely left my mouth before I broke down crying again.

My mother immediately wrapped her arms around me.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, stroking my hair, “we don’t know. The adoption agency never gave us much information about your birth parents. Honestly, they barely told us anything at all. They seemed desperate for us to take you, but we didn’t care. The moment we saw you, we fell in love with you.”

I cried against her shoulder for what felt like forever before finally pulling away.

“I’m shocked,” I admitted quietly, “but you’re still my parents. I still love you.”

Both of them looked relieved.

“We know, Bug,” my father said softly. “And we’re not expecting you to forgive us overnight. We just hope you understand why we waited so long to tell you.”

I nodded slowly.

My father knelt in front of me like he had done countless times throughout my childhood.

“Do you still want to have your birthday party tomorrow, or would you rather postpone it?”

A small smile tugged at my lips.

“I still want the party. It’s my eighteenth birthday, after all.”

My father chuckled softly. “That’s my girl. We put your dinner in the microwave whenever you’re ready.”

They both stood to leave, but before they reached the door, I stopped them.

“Mom? Dad?”

They turned around.

“What was the name of the adoption agency?”

Without hesitation, they answered together.

“Sacred Fire Adoption in Tanzania.”

Then they quietly left my room, closing the door behind them.

Tanzania?

Why were they there?

I glanced over at the keyboard lying across the room and sighed before getting up to pick it up. Once I plugged it back in, I sat down at my computer and immediately started searching for Sacred Fire Adoption.

Hours passed.

Nothing.

No records. No website. No articles. Nothing.

“This is so frustrating,” I muttered to myself. “An entire adoption agency can’t just disappear.”

Eventually, exhaustion started creeping in. I flopped back onto my bed and stared at the ceiling until my stomach growled loudly.

I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

With another sigh, I dragged myself downstairs and into the kitchen. My parents had left a plate for me in the microwave just like my father promised. I pressed the reheat button before walking over to the fridge and grabbing my favorite juice: pineapple coconut.

My parents always teased me for drinking it, calling it disgusting, but I loved it.

When the microwave beeped, I opened it and realized my mother had made my favorite soup—steak and potato soup, homemade. She had even cooked the steak pieces slightly pink in the middle, exactly the way I liked them.

Guilt twisted painfully in my chest.

I ate quickly before washing my dishes and putting everything away. Once I finished, I headed back upstairs to my room.

Since I had my own bathroom, I went straight inside and turned the shower on as hot as it would go.

After stripping out of my clothes and tossing them into the hamper, I paused in front of the mirror.

I had never considered myself pretty, but Temperence always insisted I was beautiful.

My skin was fair and mostly flawless. I had long blonde hair, naturally white teeth, and the rarest thing about me—my eyes.

One was violet.

The other was completely white.

My doctor had always said it was genetic, and I had spent my whole life assuming it came from my father’s side of the family.

My figure was another thing people constantly commented on. Temperence called it “perfectly hourglass,” but I hated how difficult it made shopping for clothes.

After a moment, I looked away from the mirror and stepped into the shower.

Almost immediately, I noticed my mother had replaced my shampoo and conditioner with fresh bottles of my favorite kind. The scent reminded me of the rainforest after morning rain.

Despite everything that had happened today, the small gesture made my chest ache.

I stayed beneath the hot water until my skin pruned before finally stepping out.

After drying my hair and changing into a nightgown, I crawled into bed.

Tomorrow, I would officially be an adult.

I had already told my parents I wanted to wait before going to college. I wanted time to travel and explore the world first, and surprisingly, they had fully supported the idea.

My birthday was October 13th, and growing up, kids constantly teased me by calling it Michael Myers’ birthday. Thankfully, one of the older boys in the neighborhood had always defended me—until his family moved away.

I rolled onto my side and pulled the blankets closer around me.

Hopefully, sleep would come quickly. I was emotionally exhausted from all the crying.

Within minutes, my eyes grew heavy, and I slowly drifted into a deep sleep.