Trophy Daughter

Chapter 23- The Drug Dealer's Daughter

Um, I know who endgame is but do you??? 
DO YOU KNOW??

This chapter isn't really funny.....

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Esther Colombo was a member of the School Board. Remember, the lady who looks like me? Barnabas was accompanying me since him and his dad were in town for another few days and Maria was lagging behind, twirling some paint brushes in her hands. We were on our way to the School's District Office to meet her. 

Carla had gotten me an appointment. Barnabas looked back at Maria, taking in her weird yet ethereal beauty, then glanced back at me as she flicked her paintbrushes over her white top. 

"Is she okay?" 

I looked at Maria. "Yeah, she's fine. She's just looking for somewhere to paint when I go in for the meeting." 

Maria suddenly threw one of her paintbrushes at a wall of a public toilet. It was gross, dingy and definitely smelled like piss. It seemed she had decided. I threw her paints bag to her and a flashlight with a button that Nikhil had fashioned for her, since she was always out painting at night by herself. If anyone tried something on  her, she would press the button and it would alert the nearest authorities as well as the closest MMA club member around. 

He was so thoughtful. 

"Bye Maria! Have fun painting!" 

She waved and hopped off, pulling a sponge out of her bag to begin scrubbing the wall to make a fresh canvas. How she handled the smell, I really didn't know. 

We got to the offices and I stopped. The door was just in front of me, but my hand didn't seem to want to reach out and open it like a normal person would. Did I have a door phobia? Oh my God, that couldn't be my fear. How would I live down the perpetual humiliation of being afraid of doors?

"A bit nervous?" 

I looked at Barnabas, who was watching the slight tremble of my hands. 

He nodded in agreement with himself. "I mean, this person might be the key to learning about the family you never had." 

Oh. That made more sense. It was true. This woman seemed like the clue to both what was wrong with my rich ex-parents, but also with the family that I was never with. Or never wanted me. 

Something struck inside of me. I was afraid. I was afraid of being the girl that not even her own biological parents could love. For years I had placated myself with the knowledge that my adoptive parents couldn't have loved me because I wasn't theirs, not truly. Even other people couldn't have loved me since I presented something that was a lie. I had pushed away all the people that could have loved me- Vincent, Malin, Veron even Belinda- going as far as to move away since I feared once they knew the real me, the person behind my lies, they would see me for who I am. 

A sad girl whose own mother didn't want to love her. 

I stared at the door. People milled about inside, going about their lives, oblivious to my own troubles that I usually thought someone other than myself should care about.

But who can actually care about your problems when you don't let anyone in?

"Circe."

Barnabas' voice shocked me out of my stupor and I slid my snakey little eyes to him, feigning strength and bravado in a situation where I felt none. He shuffled on his feet a bit but then seemed to regain himself, grabbing my hand and pulling my chin up so I could face him eye level, his touch warm and comforting. 

It was  nice.

"This is scary. You may get news that you didn't hope for or news that you didn't want. But you know what? You'll take what she gives you and use that information or whatever to work out some gods damned equation you probably have running in your head about what Caroline is up to."

He sighed, face becoming a bit softer as I stared. 

"And you'll face her and her words because while words may hurt you, they've never stopped you from trucking on. Even if you have to piss off a few people to get there. And nice answers or not so nice answers Circe, you'll always be you. And hell, a few people actually like you."

He cocked his head to the side, cheeks reddening as my brows raised. 

"Hell, even I like you." 

The shock must have been plain on my face because he jerked back, his face a mix of both anger and surprise. 

"WOW. You really thought I didn't like you? I text you all the time and I'm even hanging out with you, you idiot."

It did make sense. I guess I was just one of those people who needed words of affirmation, you know, like other normal people. 

I gave him a smile, slapping him on the back with what little arm strength I had and nodded. 

"Quite the nice speech there Barny-boy. Thank you. It really....meant a lot."

He laughed, a tad awkwardly, before opening the door for me. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone you nearly cried."

I levelled him with a glare that Nikhil would be proud of. "I'll grind your teeth up and make milk powder with them if you fucking talk about this to anyone else."

He winked at me, not at all cowed by the fierce face I thought I was pulling off. 

"There she is."

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Esther Colombo was indeed a near exact replica of me. Or vice versa. Except her black hair was long and pulled into a sleek ponytail that many women wished they could pull off, including I, and she stared at me with nothing readable in her eyes. 

"Your name is Circe Dillon Lux yes?" Her voice was almost shiny. It was weird. Was that what happened to women when they worked in offices? Their voices become shiny? 

I nodded quickly, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans. 

She looked back down to the profile on her desk, a rather horrible photo of me that was now my ID staring back up at her. 

"What may I help you with?"

The words fell out of my mouth. "You look exactly like me and I was wondering if you knew my mother or father?"

Esther just stared. It was actually kind of creepy. Her eyes were normal sized for an adult, but the pupils seemed much larger than they should have been. She just kept on staring too. Then, she placed her pen down and sat back in her chair, looking out the window with something I still couldn't fathom in her gaze. 

"Yes. I knew both of them."

Knew?

The unspoken question hung in the air. Her eyes came back to me, a sadness in them that had my hands twisting in my lap.

"Do you really want to know about your parents?"

I breathed out. It really was now or never. "Yeah. Please."

She placed her hands on her mouth in a prayer position, sighing before beginning to speak.

"They're both dead. Your mother was my sister.  Your father was a pimp and a drug dealer who kept your mother locked up with a heroin addiction. Your mother died shortly after you were born."

Something in me reeled back, swiping desperately at the undeniable truth that laid in front of me. Caroline was right about some things, I guess. Esther waited for me, waited for me to at least look at her instead of my lap. At times, your jeans could be so interesting, you know? 

At least I wasn't crying. Yet. 

My lips trembled, in reality I didn't want that part of the answer. My question hadn't been specific enough and my heart knew what I wanted to know. 

I looked at Esther, hands shaking on my lap. 

"Did my parents want me?"

Esther stared at me. 

"No."

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