BROKEN TRUTH
1245 Words
"Stop tugging Ivy's hair, Hugo!" I moaned as I moved to separate my two young miscreants before their argument escalated into a full-fledged brawl.
"But she started it, Mom!" With his arms folded, and his small face twisted in protest, Hugo bounded back.
"Did not!" Ivy's tongue protruded.
I sighed and lifted Ivy into my lap to keep them apart. "Enough, both of you," I said. "Alright, let's just have breakfast." Don't fight anymore.
Despite exchanging playful looks, the twins dutifully took their seats at the table. After observing them for a while to make sure there were no more fights, I went to the kitchen.
Before I had even put down the plate, Hugo was already grabbing for the toast. If I let him, that boy could devour a whole house. Ivy, however, only took small bites of her food and picked at it.
I pushed her plate closer and said, "Eat up, sweetheart." "Your brother isn't the only one who needs energy."
"But I'm already full."
"You've only had two bites, Ivy."
"Still full."
Hugo laughed. "More for me, then."
"Hey!" He attempted to take a piece of Ivy's toast, but she swatted at him.
With a tiny smile tugging at my lips, I simply shook my head. They were everything to me. My life had been completely upended five years prior. I had now discovered something that was almost peaceful, or as peaceful as life could be with two active five-year-olds, hidden away in a small Yorkshire town.
I continued because of them. My motivation is to be happy and persevere every day.
"Is Alistair coming home today, Mom?" Ivy gave me a hopeful look as she looked up.
No, my love, not today. He is currently saving lives, but he will return home shortly.
The mention of him made their faces light up.
After breakfast, the morning rush started.
"All right, you two, it's time to prepare for school!" As I cleared the plates, I declared.
Hugo let out a groan. "Do we have to go?"
"Yes."
"However, school is really dull."
I sighed and ushered them into their backpacks, saying, "Not this again, Hugo." He flatly refused to move when he performed this stunt the last time, and Ivy naturally followed suit. It was not a pleasant day.
I finally got them into the car after shoving lunchboxes into bags and shoes on my feet. Although the silence felt unnerving as soon as they were out of sight, it was a relief to drop them off at school.
I stayed focused at work, answering calls and typing reports. Although working as a secretary for a small delivery service wasn't glamorous, it barely covered the expenses.
Once I received permission to leave early, I hurried to pick up the twins as usual. They sang school songs on the way home, their voices loud and off-key but joyful.
I saw something strange as I pulled into the driveway. On the doorstep was a brown envelope.
I scowled as I picked it up and tucked it under my arm before leading the twins inside.
"Before dinner, wash your hands!" They ran off, and I called after them.
For a while, I forgot about the envelope and concentrated on cooking, occasionally checking in on the twins to make sure they weren't up to anything.
After dinner, we took baths and read bedtime stories. I exhaled deeply when they were at last asleep.
Finally, a peaceful moment has arrived.
I returned to the living room after grabbing a glass of water. I became aware of the mess on the floor at that point.
Torn pieces of paper. My heart fell.
Oh no.
With my head spinning, I fell to my knees and collected the ripped fragments. I picked up the brown envelope. They must have become involved.
"Those two..." I moaned as I laid out the pieces carefully in an attempt to put them back together.
My stomach twisted as I positioned the last piece.
An examination of DNA.
My name, as well as Lord Henry's.
The outcome? Biologically unrelated in 99.99% of cases.
I blinked and chuckled quietly, as if this were a joke. But it seemed more real the longer I stared.
No. That isn't feasible.
I rummaged through the remaining ripped documents and discovered more findings. For Charlotte and Lady Margaret, one. No biological relationship, once more.
This isn't true. It isn't possible.
As I picked up another test, my fingers shook. This time, my name was combined with an unfamiliar name.
Edmund Blackwood.
99.99% of them match.
I was having trouble breathing. I unfolded the attached letter with trembling hands. As I read each word, my heart thumping, my vision became blurry.
My parents were not my biological parents.
What about my biological parents? The Wyndhams killed him.
Following their passing, Wyndham & Co. acquired the Blackwood company that had belonged to them.
A fire. No survivors.
In an attempt to control my breathing, I gripped my chest. Everything I believed to be true about my life was false.
After raising me as if I were their own, they abandoned me. To expel me. To attempt my murder.
Since I wasn't theirs.
My fingers typing shakily, I fumbled for my laptop and looked for Edmund Blackwood.
The screen was filled with a picture. The image depicted a man I had never encountered before. A young girl was by his side. In his arms was a young girl.
I met a girl who resembled me exactly.
Tears fell. In order to suppress the sob that ripped through me, I covered my mouth. Edmund Blackwood and his wife had perished in a fire, as the report verified.
It was eighteen years ago.
Now everything made sense. Why I was rejected by Lord Henry and Lady Margaret. Why did they attempt to murder me? Their daughter was never me.
I was merely an impediment.
With numb fingers, I reached for my phone and dialled Alistair.
"What's wrong, Isla?" His tone was abrasive and worried.
"Everything is so overwhelming that I'm unsure where to start." I simply—I discovered something. DNA analysis. My parents are not my biological parents. The Wyndhams took everything after my real parents were killed. "They killed my family, Alistair!"
Slow down, Isla. What if the outcomes are fraudulent?
They're not! Alistair, I discovered my childhood photo online. Isla Blackwood was my true name.
That is illogical. Why are you unable to recall any of this?
"I'm not sure! There is nothing in my head! My entire childhood before them seems to have vanished.
Perhaps memory loss was brought on by the fire. That is what trauma can do. But we must exercise caution, Isla. You have no idea who or why this was sent to you.
"I'm not interested. Whoever sent it doesn't matter to me. The truth matters to me. Why they did this to me matters to me. Why did they take everything away from me? And I'll find out."
"Isla—"
"I'm going back," I interrupted him. "Tomorrow is the first flight."
"Isla, you can't just—"
"I've decided on something. Don't attempt to stop me.
Quiet. He then let out a sigh. "Just give me a call if you need anything."
My jaw tensed as I gazed at my image in the darkened window.
Stop running. No more showing weakness.
They had to answer me.
And I was going to hold them accountable.
- Writer
