Chapter 2
Riverdale was only two hours away by train from where I lived, but Willow Village sat deep in the mountains.
Getting there meant another two hours by bus from downtown, then switching to a local shuttle and winding through mountain roads for over an hour.
I fell asleep on the bus.
When I woke up, mountains stretched endlessly outside the window.
The peaks were green, and the sky was blue, and the air smelled like earth and grass.
Under different circumstances, I might have appreciated how beautiful it was, but right now, I felt suffocated. My chest felt tight. I got off at the village entrance.
Willow Village was small, with about a hundred households scattered along the hillside. Some were old mud-brick houses, and others were newly built two-story buildings with white tiles that gleamed almost blindingly in the sunlight.
An old man pulling a wagon loaded with firewood stopped and called out to me. "You looking for someone, miss?"
I gave him the address.
"Oh, you're looking for the Carter family." He pointed up the slope. "That house with the white siding. Can't miss it. It's the nicest place in the whole village."
I followed his gesture and spotted a three-story house with white walls and a red roof. A silver sedan sat parked in the driveway.
The nicest place in the whole village.
I smiled, "Thank you."
I climbed the slope and reached the front of the house.
The gate stood open, and I could hear laughter and voices drifting out from inside.
I stood at the entrance and took a deep breath before knocking on the doorframe.
I asked, "Hello? Anyone home?"
The laughter stopped.
A few seconds later, a woman in her fifties emerged from inside. She wore an apron and flour dusted her hands.
She froze when she saw me. "You're—"
"I'm Emily Lane."
Her eyes immediately welled with tears.
"Emily. It's Emily." She rushed forward and threw her arms around me, sobbing. "Emily, I'm your aunt, Madeline. You finally came back."
I stood stiff in her embrace.
She smelled like garlic and roasting meat, strong and overwhelming.
"Mom! Mom, Emily's here!" she shouted toward the house.
More people emerged.
A man in his sixties appeared first. He was tall and thin with graying hair and clouded eyes.
Then came a woman around sixty, plump with permed curls and heavy makeup.
A young man in his early twenties followed, dressed in designer athletic wear and scrolling on his phone. He glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to the screen.
Finally, an elderly woman was wheeled out.
She sat in a wheelchair with white hair, deep-set eyes, and wrinkles covering her face. She looked so thin she seemed made of bones, but her eyes were sharp and bright.
She stared at me for a long time.
Then she smiled.
"It's Emily," she said softly, her voice like wind through dried leaves. "It's Emily!"
I stood in the courtyard and looked at the house full of people. Everyone stared back at me.
A man in his sixties walked over with red-rimmed eyes and reached out to touch my head.
"Emily, I'm your father, Daniel," he said.
I took a step back.
His hand froze in midair.
"Emily?" he asked.
"Mr. Carter," I said.
I called him Mr. Carter, not Dad.
Daniel slowly lowered his hand, and his expression turned complicated.
"Emily, how can you talk like that?" The chubby woman frowned and walked over. "He's your real father, and you're calling him mister?"
"Mrs. Carter," I said, looking at her. "I have a father. His last name is Johnson."
The woman's face changed color. "You—" she started.
"Helen!" Madeline rushed to smooth things over. "Emily just got back and everything's new to her. Let's take it slow."
She took my hand and pulled me toward the house.
"Emily, come inside and sit down," Madeline said. "It's hot out here. Come have some water."
She pulled me inside.
The house had decent renovations. The couch was real leather, the coffee table was marble, and a sixty-inch TV hung on the wall. It was the fanciest house in the whole village, and that wasn't an exaggeration.
I sat down on the couch, and Madeline poured me a glass of water. "You must be thirsty, Emily," she said. "Have some water."
I took the glass but didn't drink it.
The young man, my so-called brother, sat on another couch scrolling through his phone. He hadn't looked up once.
They wheeled Joyce up to me. She reached out with trembling, bony fingers to touch my face.
"Emily," Joyce said, and tears started running down her cheeks. "Emily, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
I stared at her.
This was the woman who had abandoned me at a train station when I was two years old. Twenty-three years had passed, and she was old now, frail and dying.
"Back then, I had no choice," Joyce said. Her voice came out broken and uneven. "We were poor and couldn't afford to raise two kids. Your brother had been born and your mom was sick. I had no choice. I had to leave you."
She started crying harder.
"Emily, please forgive me," Joyce begged. "You're the one person I've wronged most in this life."
I looked at her and said nothing.
She cried for a while, but when I didn't respond, she slowly stopped.
She looked at me with hurt, hope, and something else that felt like entitlement.
Like I owed her forgiveness. Like it would be my fault if I didn't forgive her.
"Emily," Helen said, stepping forward. My so-called birth mother had joined us.
"Your grandma's health is fragile, so don't upset her. She's thought about you her whole life. All these years, she made us search for you. We searched for over twenty years and finally found you."
She paused and smiled at me. "We're all so happy you're back. From now on, we're family."
I looked at her.
"Mrs. Carter," I said.
She corrected me. "Don't call me that. I'm your mom."
"I have a mom," I said. "Her name is Susan."
Helen's smile froze on her face.
Madeline rushed to smooth things over. "Emily, why are you being so stubborn? We know your adoptive mother treated you well, but we're your real family. Blood is thicker than water and that can't be changed."
"Blood is thicker than water?" I finally smiled. "Madeline, do you know what it feels like to be abandoned at a train station when you're two years old?"
Madeline's smile disappeared.
"Do you know what it feels like to hold a note in your hand that says 'no one wants her'?"
The room went quiet.
"Do you know what it feels like when my mom Susan went to Willow Village to find you, and you said 'we never had that child'?"