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there she was, bright-eyed
and innocent, even after
everything they've been
through, and he knew he
couldn't live without her
in which odessa learns the
reality of who she is and
is introduced to a world
she never realised she
nee...
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THE CHOSEN ONE'S CHOSEN GIRL - BOOK 1 chapter seventeen !
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MAYBE I was crazy. But maybe I wasn't. Dad definitely would've told me if I had a second father or someone else contributing to my upbringing, especially if they'd passed away like Mum did, and I'd known that he was bisexual. He was never truly open about it but I knew everything there was to know about my father and he knew everything about me, despite a few aspects of my love life. So, there couldn't have been anything stopping him in that respect and if my third parent was dead, Dad definitely would've told me about them just like he did with Mum. He'd tell me what they were like and all of the adventures they had. Just like Mum. We would've had photos of them around us, just like we did with Mum. Also, I knew that both Mum and Dad were friends with Black anyway, so it was definitely a possibility.
Staring at the ceiling as I thought about this, I groaned in frustration and turned to sleep on my side, closing my tear-filled eyes. I wanted to know where I came from, I thought I deserved to know. Why was I so scared of upsetting my dad? God, I was so pathetic. Tomorrow, I was going to ask him about Mum and why he never told me she was deaf. A tear escaped my eye. I needed to talk to Harry, he knew how it felt to want to know who our parents were.
I wasn't going to talk to Dad before I had that conversation with Harry.
I sighed shakily and wiped my face, staring ahead at the photo of Mum and I. Mum wouldn't have lied to me. I didn't know her but I knew this. She never, ever, would've lied to me about who I came from and who my parents were. Even if it hurt her to remember them. I closed my eyes to let more tears fall and shuddered. I just... Really missed her tonight. Reading her journal before sleeping probably didn't help but I already felt so much closer to her that I didn't care. I'd never had anything that was just hers before.
Hours passed of me watching the photo on my side table and I had fallen asleep a few times for ten, fifteen, maybe even twenty-minute increments before I had enough. It was almost five in the morning so I stood up from my bed, grabbing Mum's journal, and walked out of the bedroom, being careful to not wake Dad up as I closed the door behind me. I sighed, pulling my hair out of the plait I made last night, and ran my fingers through my hair as I walked through to the kitchen.
"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, and the very next day, you gave it away," I sang softly, twirling around the kitchen, as I placed the notebook down and grabbed a pair of mugs. "This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special."
