The Forgotten Daughter
1050 Words
Not every orphan had dead parents.
Some simply had a father who stopped choosing them.
Valessa Romano had learned that lesson long before she was old enough to understand what it meant.
She stood in front of the mirror, fastening the last button of her cream blouse. Her long brown hair fell loosely over her shoulders, framing a face that had always attracted attention without her trying to earn it.
Her hazel eyes stared back at her.
There was something different about them today.
Maybe it was exhaustion.
Maybe it was the fact that she had barely slept.
Or maybe she was simply tired of pretending everything was fine.
She glanced at the clock.
Seven forty-five.
"Damn."
She grabbed her handbag and hurried downstairs.
The moment she entered the dining room, she knew she'd already missed breakfast.
Her father sat at the head of the table, scrolling through his phone.
Beside him sat Catherine, his wife, perfectly dressed as usual.
And across from them was Zoe.
Zoe looked up the moment Valessa entered.
Her eyes moved slowly over Valessa's outfit before she smiled.
"You're late."
Valessa stopped.
"Good morning to you too."
Zoe's smile disappeared.
Catherine placed her cup on the table.
"Valessa, we're having breakfast. You could at least try to be punctual."
"I didn't realize breakfast had a schedule."
Her father finally looked up.
"Enough."
Valessa said nothing.
She walked toward the table and pulled out a chair.
Her father returned his attention to his phone.
That was how most conversations with him went these days.
Short.
Cold.
Uninterested.
Once upon a time, it hadn't been like this.
Valessa still remembered being a little girl and waiting by the window for her father to come home. She remembered the way he used to lift her into his arms and call her his princess.
Then he married Catherine.
And everything changed.
Valessa had been seven when Zoe was born.
At first, she had been excited to have a little sister.
She remembered standing beside the hospital bed, staring at the tiny baby wrapped in pink blankets.
"She's beautiful," she'd whispered.
Her father had smiled.
"Yes, she is."
Valessa had smiled too.
She hadn't known then that the arrival of that little girl would slowly make her feel like a stranger in her own home.
"Are you listening?"
Her father's voice pulled her back.
Valessa blinked.
"Sorry. What did you say?"
"I asked if you received the email from the university."
"Yes."
"And?"
"I'll submit the documents today."
Catherine smiled.
"Of course she will. Valessa has always been very good at everything."
The compliment sounded sweet.
It wasn't.
Zoe's fork stopped halfway to her mouth.
Catherine continued, "Sometimes I wonder where she got all that intelligence from."
Valessa looked at her.
"My mother, probably."
The room went silent.
Catherine's smile stiffened.
Her mother.
The woman nobody talked about anymore.
Valessa had never understood why.
Her mother had died when she was only seven months old. She had no memories of her voice, her touch, or even the way she smelled.
All she had were photographs.
A handful of them.
Sometimes, late at night, Valessa would take one from the drawer beside her bed and stare at it for hours.
She wondered what her mother would have been like.
Would she have protected her?
Would she have noticed how lonely she felt?
Would she have told her she was proud of her?
Valessa quickly pushed the thoughts away.
Her father cleared his throat.
"Don't start."
"I'm not starting anything."
"Then leave your mother out of breakfast."
Valessa stared at him.
"My mother is the reason I'm here."
Her father's expression hardened.
"Valessa."
She stood.
"I'm done."
"Sit down."
She picked up her handbag.
"I have class."
"You haven't eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
She walked away before anyone could stop her.
Behind her, Zoe watched her leave.
Her eyes narrowed.
She hated that about Valessa.
The confidence.
The intelligence.
The way she could walk into a room without trying and still become the center of attention.
Even their father couldn't completely hide his pride in her.
Zoe had spent years trying to beat her.
Better grades.
Better clothes.
Better connections.
Nothing worked.
Valessa always seemed to be one step ahead.
And Zoe was tired of losing.
"You're awfully quiet," Catherine said.
Zoe slowly looked at her mother.
"I have an idea."
Catherine raised an eyebrow.
"What kind of idea?"
Zoe leaned closer and lowered her voice.
"The kind that gets rid of Valessa."
Catherine's expression changed.
"Be careful."
"I am always careful."
"You've said that before."
"And this time I'm serious."
Zoe looked toward the doorway where Valessa had disappeared.
"I don't want her dead."
Catherine frowned.
"Then what exactly do you want?"
Zoe smiled.
"I want her gone."
Across the city, Valessa stepped out of the family car and looked up at the university building.
The morning sun warmed her face.
For the first time since breakfast, she smiled.
This was her favorite place.
Not because of the classes.
Not because of the professors.
Because here, nobody cared that she was the daughter of Richard Romano.
Nobody cared about her stepmother.
Nobody cared about Zoe.
Here, she was simply Valessa.
She walked across the courtyard, greeting a few friends along the way.
"Valessa!"
She turned.
A young man hurried toward her.
"You forgot this."
He held out a notebook.
She laughed.
"Again?"
"You have a terrible habit of leaving things behind."
"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to see you."
He grinned.
"Did it work?"
"Not really."
They laughed.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Then her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her father's name.
She answered.
"Hello?"
"Where are you?"
"At school."
"I need you home this afternoon."
Valessa frowned.
"Why?"
"We have guests tonight."
"What guests?"
A pause.
"I'll explain when you get home."
"Dad-"
The call ended.
Valessa stared at her phone.
Something about his voice bothered her.
He sounded nervous.
And her father was never nervous.
She slipped her phone into her bag.
For reasons she couldn't explain, a strange feeling settled in her stomach.
Something was coming.
Something she couldn't see yet.
And when she finally discovered what her family had planned for her...
She would wish she had never answered that phone call.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD