Chapter 4 It's Positive

The next morning felt longer than any day Emily had ever lived.

She woke before the morning bell. She lay staring at the cracked ceiling above her bed.

Today, by this evening, she'd know.

Her fingers tightened around the thin blanket as several thoughts raced through her mind.

What if it's negative?

The thought squeezed her chest. She tried to picture Victor returning with that same unreadable face and quietly telling her there had been a mistake.

Would she smile and pretend she had never believed him? Would she lock herself in her room? Or would twenty-two years of pretending she didn't care finally break apart?

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Emily?"

Clara's voice. "I'm awake."

Clara stepped inside carrying two mugs of tea.

"I figured you wouldn't eat."

Emily accepted one with a grateful smile. "I probably can't."

Clara studied her. "Looks like you didn't sleep."

Emily looked into the steaming cup. "I kept wondering what I'd say if he's lying."

"And if he isn't?"

Emily hesitated.

"I don't know."

Clara frowned. "Of course you do."

Emily shook her head. "If the test is negative... nothing changes. I stay where I know who I am."

Clara leaned forward. "And if it's positive?"

Emily looked around the tiny room. The faded curtains, the worn wooden wardrobe and the shelf of old romance novels she'd repaired with tape over the years. Everything that had made up her life.

"Then I lose all of this."

"But at least you gain a family. Your true family."

Emily gave a faint smile. "Do I?"

Clara reached for her hand and squeezed it. "Maybe he's just awkward."

"Maybe," Emily said even though she wasn't convinced.

By afternoon, Emily could barely focus on anything. She tried sorting books but she put three on the wrong shelf.

She helped prepare lunch and she nearly dropped an entire tray. Every passing car made her heart leap. Every sound at the gate pulled her toward the window. Though she'd told herself she wouldn't hope, there was no way she could stop herself.

After twentytwo years, someone had finally come so how could she not?

Hours crawled by. Then, just before sunset, the familiar black car rolled through the orphanage gates.

Emily stopped breathing.

"He's here," Clara whispered.

Emily stood frozen. For a terrifying second, she couldn't make herself move.

"Em?"

Clara gently squeezed her shoulder. "You don't have to face this alone."

Emily nodded but she knew she did. The walk to the office felt even longer than yesterday.

Victor was already seated, exactly where he'd been before, exactly as composed. The white envelope rested on the desk between them.

Emily couldn't stop staring at it. It looked so ordinary, yet she couldn't stop asking how a few sheets of paper could change an entire life?

Victor rose to his feet and started. "The results arrived sooner than expected."

Her mouth felt dry.

"And?"

He picked up the envelope but said nothing. Emily's heartbeat thundered inside her chest.

Please, just tell me let's get this over with. She murmured in her head but didn't dare to say it out loud.

He unfolded the papers and all Emily could think was 'Read them.'

He lifted his eyes and finally said, "It is confirmed." His voice remained calm as he added. "You are my daughter."

Everything inside Emily stopped. The room disappeared. The sounds disappeared. The only thing she could hear were only those four words.

You are my daughter.

Her knees buckled. She caught the back of a chair before she could fall.

So it was true.

After twenty-two years, she'd found her family. It was true that she had a family.

She wasn't unwanted or forgotten. She had a father.

Hot tears blurred her vision but she just laughed through them.

A shaky, broken laugh she couldn't control.

"I..."

Her voice failed then she tried again.

"You're really my father?"

"Yes." He replied with that one word with no show of emotion. Not even a small smile.

Without even realizing it, she waited for him to hug her or tell her he was sorry or that he'd missed her. Anything at all but nothing came.

The silence stretched then her smile slowly weakened.

"I have..."

She swallowed.

"I have a family."

Victor gave one short nod. "You'll come home now."

The warmth she'd felt only moments ago cooled.

"So soon?"

"There is no reason to delay."

His tone made it sound like they were discussing a business meeting.

"I need time."

"You've had twenty-two years."

Emily stared at him. "That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"Then why are you acting as though leaving everything behind is easy?"

"Because it isn't relevant."

She blinked in surprise. "My life isn't relevant?" she asked in disbelief.

"I said your hesitation isn't."

Something inside her tightened. "I need to pack."

"I don't think there is any need for that," he said, shaking his head.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Everything has already been replaced."

"My clothes?"

"Yes."

"My books?"

"Whatever books you want can be purchased again."

Emily shook her head. "But they're not things I bought. I repaired those books myself. I've owned some of them since I was twelve."

Still nothing.

"My mother's photograph..." she whispered instinctively.

Then she stopped. She didn't even have one. She'd never seen her mom or know what she looked like.

Victor's expression never changed as he said, "You'll have better things. You won't even have to work again ever in your life. You'll be going back with me as heir to the Victor Hale."

Emily looked away. He didn't understand or perhaps, he didn't care.

"You should say your goodbyes."

His words sounded less like a suggestion and more like an instruction to her. But she didn't say anything. Instead, Emily turned.

Clara stood quietly by the doorway as tears already shimmered in her eyes.

"It's positive," Emily whispered.

Clara gasped before rushing over and pulling her into a fierce hug.

"I knew it."

Emily hugged her back tightly. "I should be happy."

"You are."

Emily closed her eyes. "I think I am," She said but the words felt uncertain.

Because the man standing only a few feet away whom she'd spent twenty two years dreaming about still felt like the biggest stranger she'd ever met.

Victor glanced at his watch.

"We should leave within the hour," Victor said and Emily slowly pulled away from Clara.

Already?

She hadn't even had time to understand what she'd gained before she was being asked to give up everything she'd ever known.