The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

4

ROSALIE WAKES ME UP AT three a.m.

I probably only slept for two hours or so, and my body wasn't exactly in the mood to get up yet.

I don't entirely remember what time it was when I came back from my walk. But I do remember telling Rosalie I'll write the story. And after that I basically blacked out in my old bedroom.

Luckily in my suitcase I had stuffed in a good enough black blazer that'll go perfectly with a white blouse and black pants. I better look the work if I was really going to write Maeve's story. But I don't exactly know what I'm writing it for. The answer felt so clear yesterday, but now I don't know anymore. I'm mad. I'm mad at my parents for never telling me about my biological mom, never telling me that she actually wanted to take me back at one point. But I don't know if I can also blame them. And I'm mad that Maeve, if she really is my biological mother, why did she give me up? She has the money to raise a child. She adopted Rosalie.

That's what frustrated me the most. Why did she adopt some other kid if her own kid is out there in the world?

When we're about to leave, Rosalie's van waiting for us outside, I force my face to pull into a smile as I tell my parents goodbye.

They tell me they love me, but for the first time, I don't say it back. And I hate myself for it. I hate myself for a lot of things. I hate myself for being a failure and needing Maeve and Rosalie to give me this opportunity to get back onto my career. I hate being so selfish and I want to be better, I want to not be mad, because maybe I shouldn't be but that also doesn't seem possible.

"Where are we going?" I ask Rosalie when the ride seems to stretch on forever. I peek over the driver's seat, where no one is since this is a self-driving high tech van. It makes me a little jealous that Rosalie has all this stuff when it actually could have been mine too.

"The airport of course."

And I remember what she had said last night, out on the streets of Bakersfield. So now, we're really just going all the way to Beijing?

I turn my face fully toward her, while she's looking through her phone.

"So am I really her daughter?"

Two minutes passed by and she didn't say anything. I basically think she's just not going to answer me. But then she turns toward me, and maybe it's just me, but her dark hazel eyes water.

"Yes. In a way, yes."

I frown at her. "What do you mean 'in a way'?"

She turns away from me and looks out the window on her side. The van's window is turned onto private mode where you can see the view from the outside but from the outside, people can't see anything from the inside of the vehicle. One of the pros to being rich and successful I guess.

"I shouldn't be the one answering your questions. It should be her."

"But she's dead!"

This makes her finally look back at me, and I see a drop of tear roll down her cheek. But she wipes it away before it even fully makes it down her face.

"You think I don't know that?"

For the rest of the way to the airport, we don't talk. And I have about a billion questions piling up in my head. I want answers. I'm hungry for answers. When someone gives you information about things, people don't mention this, but they are also feeding you questions. Where then they never give you the answers to. And I'm scared that this might be one of those times, even though Rosalie said that I'll find my answers once I hear Maeve's story. But that's what makes things even more confusing. I already know Maeve's whole life story. Everyone does. It's been set to the public's eyes for what? Decades? So exactly how is that going to give me the answers I want if I already know the whole story and how things turn out?