❝ Even the most beautiful masterpiece would have a bitter truth hidden beneath its deceptive covers. ❞
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Iris learns that her brothers have decided to take her in after she gets into a severe accident. With a dark past and twisted truths, she has...
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The familiar, yet annoying beeping sound had replaced the ringing one in my ears. Scanning my surroundings, I noticed that I hadn't left the familiar dull room.
A sigh left my lips, causing me to wince at the pain that had jolted throughout my chest.
"Ah, you're finally awake, Iris."
My gaze instantly travelled towards the source of the voice, only for my eyes to meet the doctor's dark ones. Her hair wasn't in a ponytail anymore; it was neatly braided to the side.
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion before different events flooded my mind. The last thing I remembered was talking to the police officer, and him asking me a question before the darkness consumed me.
"Do you have panic attacks quite often?" Asked the doctor to which I nodded in response.
"This one was the worst in a while," I told her, allowing my gaze to travel back to my hands.
Of course it was. And I knew that it wasn't going to be the last one. I usually had them after being scolded by my fosters. Or at school when different events happened. But they were never this bad.
"The events that happened, plus the medications you're on played a role in making it worse," said Kate.
"Did you see my foster parents?" I asked, fearing how they would react and what they would do once they know that I broke their rules and came to a hospital.
Kate's eyes softened as pity flooded them. She opened her mouth to say something but instantly closed it once again.
"I'm sorry for your loss, hun," she finally told me. "Your fosters were announced dead."
I would've certainly cried for hours if I heard those words years ago. Before everything went bad. But I didn't. I didn't even feel sad for them. My life was hell because of them.
A lump formed in my throat, blocking all the words I wanted to say out. It wasn't because of sadness; it was because of a feeling I couldn't quite recognise.
"What'll happen to me?" I forced myself to speak. I hated my old house, but I didn't want to end up in an orphanage or with another pair of abusive fosters.
"The officer would've told you if you were awake. He had managed to find some of your family members."
My eyes widened at the news I had just heard. Family? And I? That couldn't be true. I lived in an orphanage before being adopted by my fosters. And I was always told that my parents were dead.
