Her Name Was Annie by Beth Rinyu (the little red hen read aloud txt) 📕

would’ve never thought of her differently. You and Mom gave me the best life ever, and now that I know the truth, it sickens me to think that she had to run herself ragged to try and prove herself to me. Did she really not know how much I loved her?”

“She did, Steph. She really did. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with her.” He pulled me closer and I rested my head on his shoulder, allowing the tears to flow freely down my face. He pulled me into a hug and whispered, “Everything is going to be all right,” just like he would after I had fallen off my bike as a little girl, or after a broken heart from a teenage crush. He had been there for me at every stage in my life. He would always be my father, the same way his wife would always be my mother, and nothing in the world would ever change that.

Chapter 15

THE NEXT FEW days were a fog. I was able to be myself in the classroom with my students, which I was grateful for. But once I was home or had a little time to myself, it was as if everything I had learned a few days ago was just a dream that I’d be woken up from at any moment. I hadn’t shared what I had learned with anyone, because saying it out loud would make it real, and I wasn’t ready for it to be just yet.

My father called every day to check up on me, and I assured him I was fine. I wasn’t angry at him for keeping it from me. I was more hurt. Hurt that they didn’t trust my love for them enough—or shall I say my mother didn’t trust it, my father just went along with it. A ton of emotions I was feeling toward them swirled around in my head, while new ones conjured up as well.

There was a woman out there who gave birth to me. Who was she? Was she still alive? Why did she give me up? I didn’t feel resentment toward her for giving me away. In fact I had admired her strength for it. Whatever her reasoning was, she allowed me to have a wonderful life. I wondered if she ever thought about me, and if so, did she get that sinking feeling in her heart when she did? I was no stranger to that heartache. I knew firsthand that time couldn’t lessen it, so I learned to keep my memories deep inside and never bring them to the surface.

It was the exact opposite of how all the self-help books I read back then told me to cope, but it had worked for me for the most part. But now, learning the truth about my past, seemed to be resurfacing my own personal despair that I had managed to keep tucked away. I wasn’t sure if the tears I had shed over the past few days were because of that or learning the truth. Maybe it was a mixture of both. I just knew the pain I had felt all those years ago was a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone, not even a woman I never met.

When I arrived home from work, I knew it was time to stop feeling sorry for myself and quit my slacking. My house was a mess, needing a thorough vacuuming. I had laundry in my hamper that was overflowing and didn’t even have one Christmas decoration out with Christmas being less than three weeks away. Each year I swore I wasn’t going to go all out, and each year I’d find myself going out and buying more Christmas décor. It made me happy to see the room all lit up at night, and this year especially, that happiness was needed.

Kara was coming home for Christmas break, after her exams sometime next week, and I was saving the tree trimming for when she got here. Which reminded me of another thing I needed to put on my to-do list—buy a Christmas tree. Last year, I had finally gotten rid of the one I had before Kara was born after the branches began to fall off. I was never this far behind schedule with the holidays. Normally we’d have the tree up the day after Thanksgiving, but in my defense, I did have quite a bit going on in the past few weeks.

My phone rang just as I got done putting the last towel in the washer. After quickly turning on the machine and nearly tripping over Max, who was right underfoot, I bolted into the kitchen. When I pulled my phone from my purse, Jack’s name displayed on my caller ID. I hadn’t heard from him since our embrace three days prior, so I was wondering if this call meant he had something to report. I had been so wrapped up in the mystery of my own life that I’d kind of forgotten about the mystery man in the ocean.

“Hey, Jack,” I answered.

“Hey, have you been watching the news?”

“I try not to. Why, what’s up?”

“Dominick Cavlan, the brother of your guy in the ocean, is being accused of rape.”

I put Jack on speaker and did a quick Internet search on my phone. As soon as I typed Dominick Cavlan’s name in the search browser, the story popped up.

Karlyn Wells, a twenty-seven-year-old woman who once interned for Senator Cavlan, is accusing him of rape. Ms. Wells states that when she worked for the senator six years ago, he forced himself on her. The Cavlan campaign is dismissing any allegations, saying this is absolutely false.

I scrolled down further to a photograph of the senator and the girl accusing him. I was assuming it was taken when she worked for him. He looked like your typical politician—older, arrogant, expensive suit, and perfectly coiffed dark hair that was more than likely dyed to try and give him a more