Chapter 4

At ten the next morning, the Fosters held a press conference. I didn't go.

On TV, my parents and William sat in front of the cameras, and Emily sat next to Carol with her eyes swollen from crying.

A reporter put it bluntly. "Did Miss Emily Foster come between her sister, Sophia Foster, and her husband?"

Carol shook her head immediately. "No. Charles knew Emily first, and at the beginning both families assumed the two of them would end up together."

The reporter pressed. "But Sophia Foster is your biological daughter, correct?"

The room went quiet for a few seconds, and Carol took Emily's hand. "By blood, yes."

My fingers tightened.

Then she looked into the camera. "Sophia is the daughter I gave birth to, but Emily is the daughter I raised, one day at a time.

"If you really made me choose, I couldn't push out the daughter who spent over twenty years with me for the sake of a daughter I only share blood with."

The press section erupted, and somebody called out, "So you're choosing Emily?"

Carol's eyes filled. "Sophia has always been stronger than Emily. She can take care of herself. Emily is different."

I laughed out of nowhere.

She knew exactly which one of us she gave birth to, and then, in front of everyone, wide awake, she picked the other one.

The reporters dug up the old videos too.

In them, I was staking out hotels, blocking cars, chasing down jewelry, and getting louder every single time.

William said to the camera, "Sophia's marriage has been hard on her for a few years, and her emotions run high. None of those fights had anything to do with Emily."

My phone went off within minutes. Relatives, classmates, numbers I didn't know.

Some of them said the daughter they raised for over twenty years naturally mattered more than the one they found halfway through.

I didn't answer a single one.

Charles' call came through anyway, and the first thing he said was, "Don't read the comments."

I didn't say anything.

He paused, and his voice softened. "You can't sleep when people talk about you. Turn your phone off tonight. If it gets bad, I'll come over."

I only asked, "Did you know about the press conference?"

"I did."

"Did you agree to it?"

He sighed, "Emily has to be cleared first. You kept her clean for three years. She can't end up nailed as the other woman because of our divorce."

I went rigid. "I kept her clean?"

Charles actually sounded put out. "Didn't you? You spent three years going after Rachel, and everybody is sure she's the one. If you suddenly name Emily, who's going to believe it?"

My stomach clenched.

Charles was still talking. "The divorce is done, and people will stop watching soon.

"Stay out of sight for a few days. Once it dies down, I'll take you to that place in Southgate.

"You always wanted to eat there, didn't you?"

I asked, "Do you honestly think I'd have dinner with you?"

He laughed once. "Don't sulk. We got divorced. We didn't become enemies.

"I told you, signing the papers was to get Emily out of it. There's no reason for the two of us to take it this far.

"You used to be furious with me and you still remembered to buy my stomach medicine."

I hung up on him.

I opened the bottom layer of my suitcase. There was an old notebook inside.

From the time I was ten, I wrote a letter every birthday to the birth parents I couldn't find.

The year the Fosters found me, when I was eighteen, I finally wrote one line on the last page. [Mom, Dad, I found you.]

The first page tore easily. Then the second. Then the third.

By the end, I couldn't tear anymore, and the paper shook in my hands.

The tears came down, and I bent over as my stomach turned.