Arabella St. Claire

Chapter 2

"Arabella st Claire?" A teacher called my name, "yes?" I replied, the English teacher nodded and asked me if I could come to the front of the class. "Yes, of course. Please don't be afraid to speak French in front of me, I know French as well." He nodded and proceeded to introduce me to the class in French. He asked me to translate it. I did and he looked impressed. "Who taught you?" He asked me. "I did, but Paris is also my birthplace, I was adopted by the st Claire family as an infant and had to teach myself French." The teacher nodded sympathetically, "you have a way with the language." He smiled. I felt as if I knew this man before, like in a dream. When I arrived home, my parents had decided to tell me that I was adopted, but I already knew. "When did you find out?" My mom asked. "When I was seven." I told her. "You left out the paperwork and I was curious so I looked at them." I then realized that My English teacher was in fact, my biological father. "I met one of my biological parents today." I said. "I recognized him from the photo." My dad looked at me, and then he looked around the room to make sure Samantha wasn't around to hear us. "I already told her." I said.

"She needed to know as well." I smiled. My dad had risen to his feet and was angry at me. "You shouldn't have told your sister!" He yelled. "It's not Like you were going to say anything about it either." I told him calmly. My dad pointed at the door. Without a word, I left.

I arrived at my biological parent 's address and knocked on the door. My biological mother answered the door. "Is Mr. Lumière available? I am one of his students." His wife nodded and called out to him. Mr. Lumière came to the door and said, "Arabella?" I nodded, "bonne soirée Mr. Lumière." I said, as I walked inside. It was raining and I didn't think to bring an umbrella.

I brought copies of the adoption paperwork that belonged to my parents, and the photos.  They both stared at me, then at the documents and photos. "That's me as a baby." I said.  I showed them my birth mark, a dark spot on my forehead, my hair covered it.  "Anastasia" my biological mother said softly. I nodded, "that's my real name, and my middle name by adoption.  "How long have you known?" Mr lumière asked. "Since I was seven." I said.  " My parents didn't know I didn't discover it until today." He then asked me, "do your parents know that you're here?" I shook my head sideways. "My dad told me to leave, after I mentioned that I informed my younger sister that I was adopted.  He didn't take it well."    As I walked through the front door, he waved at me, I wanted to stay there but I knew that my adopted parents would search there first. Which was why I didn't tell them where I was going to next.  They were nice enough to hand me some money.

As  I walked into high school the next day, my little sister saw me. She said I wasn't her real sister and blamed me for even having them move here. "I know," I said. "I won't bother you guys anymore." I smiled and said, "All I ask is to pass this note to them when you get home; tell them to put it through Google Translate. She took the note and placed it in her backpack." I moved into the dance academy." I told Samantha as the bell rang. Then I waved goodbye to her. Samantha returned home after school and found her babysitter instead of their parents.

"How was school?" Isabella asked. "Arabella handed me a note to give to our parents; well, she's adopted, but last night, my dad got mad at her and told her to leave; they haven't seen her since. I don't know if I should give them the note." Isabella nodded and asked, "Your older sister, she's fourteen, right?" Samantha nodded and said, "I admit I said things I shouldn't have to her today. But she knows karate and takes ballet at a ballet academy nearby. She should be fine, right?"

"Being fourteen doesn't mean she's an adult, Samantha." Isabella explained, "She's still a kid." Samantha remained quiet, thinking. "Can I show you the note and ask you to translate it?" she asked. Isabella nodded as Samantha handed her the note. "it says, dear Mr. and Mrs. St. Claire, I'm writing to tell you that your daughter, Arabella, has moved into the pairs opera ballet school; we want you to know your daughter is in good hands. Signed Pierre, your  daughter's instructor and headmaster of the academy. " Isabella looked surprised, "your older sister is in the most prestigious dance academy in paris?" she asked. Samantha looked confused, "I didn't realize it was a big deal; it's just a dance school."  Isabella made a pained expression. "it's a very renowned and famous school; your sister is lucky enough to walk through those doors. If my sister had been in that school, I'd have been happy and proud of her. Adopted or not."