Chapter Two

Celia's POV

"Who are you on the phone with?"

A black luxury car slowly pulled up at the curb. The window rolled down, and Dad's cold face was half hidden in the shadows.

He glanced at me, and his frown deepened.

"Get in."

I hung up, opened the door, and got in.

The AC was cranked way up, and the blast of cold air made me shiver all over.

Dad didn't start the car. He pulled a manila envelope out of the glove compartment and tossed it right into my lap.

"Take a look. Want to tell me what this is?"

The envelope was already open.

A few test reports slid out, along with an application form for a DNA ancestry service.

I'd sent it in with my DNA sample after my diagnosis. It was my one slim chance at staying alive, so I hadn't told a soul.

Since they'd always said I wasn't really theirs, I figured I'd take a shot and see if I could find my birth parents.

Even if it was only to beg them to save my life.

And now that form had ended up in Dad's hands.

"Celia, I'm really disappointed in you."

Dad leaned back in his seat. There was no anger in his voice, just pure contempt.

"We raised you for nineteen years. When did you ever go without anything? And this is how you repay us?"

"Going behind our backs to find your birth parents? What, you think we treated you that badly? Can't wait to go find yourself a new family?"

I stared at the application form. It felt like a wad of blood-soaked cotton was stuck in my throat.

I'd only gone looking for my birth parents because I wanted to live.

But to him, I was just an ungrateful brat who'd never appreciate anything, no matter how much they did for her.

"That's not it."

I stuffed the papers back into the envelope and kept my voice calm.

"I just wanted to know where I came from."

Dad gave a cold laugh and turned the wheel.

"You want to know that bad? Fine. You'll get your wish."

"We're going home."

He drove fast the whole way and finally stopped in front of the Langford estate.

Mom and Sloane were sitting on the couch in the living room. Across from them sat a middle-aged couple in worn-out, shabby clothes. They looked stiff and out of place.

The man was deeply tanned, and his hands were as rough as tree bark.

The woman's hair was a mess, and her eyes kept darting over every expensive thing in the room.

Dad walked in and pointed at the two of them.

"Celia, come here."

I went over and stopped next to the coffee table.

"You wanted to find your birth parents, didn't you?"

Dad looked at me, his tone as flat as if he were discussing a deal that wasn't worth his time.

"I had someone look into it for you. These two are your birth parents. Wade and Charlene Puckett."

Charlene shot up from the couch, grabbed my hand, and squeezed out a few tears.

"Oh my God, my baby girl! Mama finally found you!"

"We were so poor back then, we just couldn't afford to keep you. That's why we left you outside the fire station. You're not mad at Mama, are you?"

She reeked of cheap cigarettes and stale sweat, and the smell was overwhelming.

With a blank face, I pulled my hand away.

I looked over at Mom and Dad.

Their acting was awful.

If I hadn't known the truth, maybe they really would've fooled me, and I'd have believed this was the embarrassing family I came from.

But last night, I'd heard everything with my own ears.

I was the Langfords' real daughter, their firstborn.

These two people were just actors they'd dug up from some backwoods town.

Mom pulled out a tissue and gracefully dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

"Celia, don't think we're being heartless."

"You miss your birth parents so much, we can't exactly stop you from being with them."

"Go pack your things. You'll stay with them up in the mountains for a while."

Sloane sat beside Mom, her voice soft and sweet.

"Don't be scared, Celia. Life in the mountains is a little rough, but they're your family, you know?"

"Once you've had it hard for a while and learned to be grateful, you'll see how good Mom and Dad have been to you."

I stood there, looking at this ridiculous family in front of me.

All so I'd suffer a little. All so I'd see how good this family had been to me.

They were actually handing their own dying daughter over to two strangers.

A wave of exhaustion hit me out of nowhere, and I didn't even have the strength to argue.

I didn't have long to live anyway.

If I died in this house, I'd only stain their ridiculously expensive rug.

Dying in the mountains didn't sound so bad.

"Okay."

I nodded, my voice so quiet it was barely there.

"I'll go pack."

Mom froze. She clearly hadn't expected me to agree so easily.

She'd had a whole lecture ready for me, and now it was all stuck in her throat.

I turned and went upstairs to the storage room, then shoved the few old clothes I owned into my backpack.

By the time I came back down, Wade was already sick of waiting.

He yanked the backpack out of my hands, his voice loud and rough.

"Move it. Quit acting like you're some kind of princess."

I followed them to the front door.

Dad stayed on the couch. He didn't even turn his head.

Mom called after me.

"Celia."

"Behave yourself over there and do what you're told. Don't be as ungrateful as you were at home."

"Whenever you come to your senses, give us a call. We'll come get you."

I stopped and turned to look at her.

Over her shoulder, I caught sight of the huge family portrait on the wall.

In the photo, Dad, Mom, and Sloane were all smiling sweetly.

I wasn't in it.

"Got it."

I pushed the door open.

"I won't be calling."