Chapter 2

David's voice cut through the studio hum.

"This next post. January 1st, 2022."

He read from the screen, my words echoing in the large hall.

"'So many letters from the kids at the community center. My closet is overflowing. I don't want Mom and Dad, or Michael, to find them. Jessica said she can help. She said I can use her address for the mail from now on.'"

A murmur went through the audience.

Jessica's smile wavered for a split second.

Michael scoffed. "She was always a liar. Making things up."

David ignored him, scrolling to the next entry.

"January 20th, 2022."

His voice was flat, devoid of emotion, letting my words hang in the air.

"'Went to give blood today. Found out my blood type... it doesn't match Mom, Dad, or Michael. They told me. I'm adopted. They said it doesn't change anything. They'll always love me like their own. My head is spinning.'"

The camera zoomed in on Michael's face.

His jaw was tight. He looked away from the screen.

Jessica placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Darling, you knew this. It's not a secret."

He shook her hand off, irritation flashing in his eyes before he smoothed his expression.

"It's private family business," Michael said, his voice low and dangerous. "Not for public display."

David continued, relentless.

"March 20th, 2022."

"'Ever since I found out about... everything... I can't help but avoid Michael. I don't know why. Just seeing him makes my heart race. I get so nervous. Is this... a crush? Can I... can I like my brother if we're not related by blood?'"

The live stream chat went berserk.

[GROSS! She wanted her brother!]

[Adopted or not, that's sick!]

[Jessica, you poor thing, having to deal with this family.]

[Michael is a saint for putting up with her!]

Suddenly, the image on the big screen wobbled violently.

Michael was on his feet, lunging towards the tech booth, shoving a camera operator aside.

"ENOUGH!" he roared. "We're done! Turn it off!"

He grabbed Jessica's arm. "Let's go."

David stepped forward, calm amidst the chaos. "Mr. Peterson, Ms. Hayes. You both signed an agreement before this interview. You are contractually obligated to see it through."

Security guards moved to block Michael's path.

Jessica pulled her arm free from Michael's grip, her face a mask of annoyance. She smoothed her dress.

Michael stared at David, his chest heaving. After a long, tense moment, he slowly returned to his seat. His back was ramrod straight.

Three minutes later, the broadcast resumed. The air was thick with tension.

David's finger was poised over the next post.

"June 5th, 2022."

His voice was softer now.

"'A sudden virus. The whole city is in lockdown. Mom and Dad are quarantined at their offices. Michael and I... we both have fevers. He insisted I take the last of the fever medicine. I'm so weak. Through the haze, I heard him... I think he said he liked me. He told me to live. I held his hand so tight. It hurts so much. Are we going to die?'"

I remembered that fear. The burning fever, the world shrinking to the space between our hands.

Jessica shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She glanced at Michael, but he was staring straight ahead, his face unreadable.

David continued. "June 6th, 2022."

"'We woke up in the hospital. An ambulance brought us here. Paramedics saved us. Michael's in the bed across the narrow aisle. He just keeps looking at me. I touched my face, asked him what he was staring at. He said... he said he saw the most beautiful stars in the night sky. In my eyes.'"

A tear escaped my own, unseen, of course. He had said that. And for a moment, the world had felt right.

The chat was quieter now. A few confused emojis. Some skeptical comments.

[Is this real?]

[Sounds like a damn soap opera.]

[Michael said that? No way.]

David's voice brought me back.

"June 10th, 2022."

"'Discharged from the hospital. We went home together. I just want to grow up faster. So much faster.'"

"The accompanying photo," David said, his voice gentle, "is of two hands, fingers intertwined."

He paused, letting the image linger on the screen.

The memory was so vivid. His hand in mine, warm and strong. The promise of a future.

A future that never came.

Jessica finally spoke, her voice laced with carefully crafted surprise and sorrow.

She turned to Michael, her eyes wide. "Michael... I... I had no idea. I didn't know you ever... felt that way about Sarah."

She looked towards the camera, a picture of regret. "It's my fault. I should have tried harder to guide her. To help her see reason. Maybe then... maybe then things wouldn't have ended so tragically."

Michael pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.

His voice, when he spoke my name, was cold, filled with a familiar hatred. "It's not your fault, Jess. Sarah was always chasing fantasies. She was vain, selfish. She brought it all on herself."

Brought it all on myself.

He wasn't entirely wrong.

Every choice, every step into the darkness... they were mine.

David continued to scroll. His finger stopped again, three months later in my timeline.

"September 10th, 2022."

"'A woman showed up today. Said she was my birth mother. A cocktail waitress, she called herself. Said she found me on one of those ancestry websites...'"