"Vincent, I'm worried."
"About what?"
"About Hanneke, of course!" Ellemijn Leijerzapf exclaimed at her husband.
Ever since her daughter came home suddenly, exhausted and in tears, her mind hadn't stopped to rest.
Never in so long has she ever seen her daughter like this.
The moment she saw her in the hallway of her childhood home in the city of Nijmegen, cheeks stained with tears and eyes visibly tired, Ellemijn and Vincent couldn't help but to worry. Willem was also extremely surprised to see his twin sister so suddenly, especially when the last time they had talk over the phone, she said she was fine.
Now Hanne was fast asleep in her bedroom, bags slumped against the door and lights turned off.
Ellemijn didn't look like her daughter. Neither did Vincent.
While their children were strictly brunettes, they were blonde. Hair as light as hay, and eyes as blue as the ocean.
It made sense though, because Hanne and Wim were adopted. Put into this world by a woman they never knew and given to parents who would love them more than they did to themselves. Even if they weren't theirs in the first place.
Ellemijn was sat at the dining table of their Nijmegen home, a coffee cup in hand as she gripped on to the handle tightly. "She makes me worried, Vincent. Is this going be like what happened when she was sixteen? Am I going to console her until she feels better?"
"Calm down, Ellemijn," said Vincent. "When Hanne wakes up, we can discuss this altogether. Wim included."
"When? She's been sleeping for about five hours now!"
"She flew in to Amsterdam and took the train to come here, it's perfectly reasonable for her to be really tired," explained Vincent. "Look, just give the girl some time, alright?"
"Time for what?"
The presence of Hanne startled her parents as she casually strolled in the kitchen looking for something to eat after a very tiring plane and train ride to her hometown of Nijmegen, not very far from her current city of Dortmund, Germany. Dressed in red sweatpants with Christmas trees and a black sweatshirt with her hair in an unruly ponytail, strands of hair flying everywhere.
She looked fine, for the most part. Having slept over five hours, she looked and maybe even felt better than she usually does. Maybe even better than she did when she left Dortmund.
Ellemijn sported her signature smile, the edges of her lips curving upwards. "Hanneke, honey, how are you? Did you sleep well?"
"I'm fine. Have you seen Wim? I gave him twenty euros when I got home so that he could buy his stupid Maaslander cheese, and he still hasn't paid me back, yet."
Vincent furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would he need to borrow money? He's a footballer."
"Exactly! I swear to God, if he doesn't—"
"I'm home!"
"Eh," Vincent pushed away his coffee cup in front of him, "I think he's home."
Just like that—Hanne disappeared out of the kitchen in a flash, leaving her parents utterly speechless.
She was nowhere near the state they expected her to be in. Silent, unenthused, and under pressure. Instead, she was smiling, loud, and lively, like whatever happened to her in Germany hadn't happened at all.
Ellemijn looked at her husband, gravely concerned about their daughter. "Vincent, I think she's trying to hide her feelings again."
"Huh?" He stood from the dining table to place his empty, white, chipped coffee mug into the sink. "No, she couldn't have... you shouldn't be assuming things too quickly, liefde."
