Tej grew up surrounded by love, his every need attended to by the Ruths, who adored him as if he were their own flesh and blood. He was a bright child, always curious and eager to learn, with a natural charm that drew people to him. The Ruths marveled at how quickly he grasped new concepts, his inquisitive nature leading him to ask questions about the world around him. They answered every query with patience, their hearts swelling with pride at his intelligence and curiosity.
Yet, as he approached his twelfth birthday, Tej's questions began to take on a different tone. He had always known that he didn't resemble his parents, with his jet-black hair and deep, dark eyes contrasting with their fair complexions and light-colored hair. It was a difference that had been noted by others—neighbors, teachers, even strangers on the street—but it had never seemed to bother Tej before. Now, however, he was beginning to wonder why.
"Mom, why don't I look like you or Dad?" he asked one evening as they sat at the dinner table. His voice was casual, but there was a hint of something else beneath the surface—a quiet tension that Marianne couldn't quite place.
Marianne and John exchanged a glance, the unspoken question hanging between them. They had always known this day would come, but they had hoped it would be much later, when Tej was older and more prepared to handle the truth. But the way he looked at them now, with those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through them, made them realize that they couldn't wait any longer.
"Tej, there's something we need to tell you," John began, his voice gentle but serious. He reached across the table and took his son's hand, his grip firm but reassuring. "It's something we've wanted to share with you for a long time, but we needed to make sure you were ready to hear it."
Tej's heart began to race, a cold knot of anxiety forming in his stomach. He had never seen his parents look so serious, and the way they were both watching him now made him feel as though something monumental was about to happen.
"You see, Tej," Marianne continued, her voice soft and trembling slightly, "you were adopted. We found you when you were just a baby, left on our doorstep during a terrible storm. We don't know who your birth parents are or why they left you, but from the moment we saw you, we knew we wanted to raise you as our own."
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Tej felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him. His entire life had just been upended, the truth crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He was adopted? How could this be? The Ruths were the only parents he had ever known, the only family he had ever had. But now, everything felt... different.
"I... I don't understand," Tej stammered, his voice shaking. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"We wanted to, sweetheart," Marianne said, her eyes filling with tears. "But we didn't want to upset you. We thought... we thought it would be easier if we waited until you were older, but you've been asking so many questions, and we didn't want you to find out from someone else. We wanted to tell you ourselves, to make sure you knew how much we love you."
Tej's mind was spinning, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. He felt betrayed, confused, angry, and most of all, hurt. His parents—no, the people he thought were his parents—had kept this from him all these years. What else had they lied about? What other secrets were they hiding?
His breathing quickened, his chest tightening as panic began to take hold. The room seemed to close in around him, the walls pressing in as his vision blurred. He felt dizzy, disoriented, and before he knew it, he was gasping for air, his hands clutching at his throat as if he were being suffocated.
"Tej!" John shouted, rushing to his side. "Tej, breathe! It's okay, just breathe!"
But Tej couldn't. His heart was pounding in his ears, his thoughts a chaotic jumble of fear and disbelief. He could barely hear his parents' frantic voices as they tried to calm him down, their hands on his shoulders, his face, trying to ground him. But nothing was working. The panic was all-consuming, and he felt as though he were drowning in it.
"Call 911!" Marianne cried, her voice trembling with fear. "He's having a panic attack!"
John fumbled for his phone, his hands shaking as he dialed the emergency number. Within minutes, the ambulance arrived, the paramedics swiftly taking control of the situation. Tej was rushed to the hospital, his parents trailing behind, their faces pale with worry.
As Tej lay in the hospital bed, the harsh fluorescent lights overhead casting a sterile glow, he felt a numbness settle over him. The panic had subsided, replaced by an emptiness that was almost worse. His mind kept replaying the moment when his parents—no, the Ruths—had told him the truth, their voices echoing in his head like a broken record.
He was adopted. His whole life had been a lie.
When he was finally discharged, Tej returned home with his parents, the three of them silent during the car ride. The doctors had advised rest and calm, and so Marianne and John tiptoed around him, their voices hushed, their movements careful. They told him small, soothing lies, trying to reassure him that everything would be okay, that nothing had really changed.
But Tej knew better. Everything had changed. He couldn't trust them anymore, couldn't trust anyone. If the people who had raised him, loved him, could keep something so huge from him, then what else were they hiding? What other lies had they told?
From that day on, Tej began to see the world differently. He started to question everything, his mind always on high alert, always suspicious. And if he couldn't trust the truth, then maybe lying was the only way to protect himself. Maybe lying was the only way to survive.
As the days passed, Tej's behavior seemed to return to normal, at least on the surface. He smiled, laughed, and went about his daily routines as if nothing had happened. But inside, he was broken. Inside, he was planning his escape—his escape into a world of lies.