Laying on the bed in my room, I read through my phone.
Lesly Lane was adopted by an old grandma in an isolated village. She was picked up at three to four years old, injured and disheveled. My stepmother had not been a registered citizen until she was around the age to start school, the county major only then heard of the existence of an undocumented child in his county. He decided to get everything done without grand formalities, as she had lived a few years with the old grandma before, and nobody had come to pick her up. The old woman named her Lesly Lane, and she was the unofficial guardian until she died when Lesly was twelve years old.
The government was called, and Lesly, now officially an orphan, was registered appropriately; her age was confirmed through tests, and she was brought into a foster family. The foster family gave her back to the orphanage after some time, having gotten pregnant themselves, and it was mentioned that something was wrong with her, but in this report there were no details.
I can already imagine that the Baby bird had taken the taxidermized cat with her wherever she had gone, possibly having hallucinations in front of the couple.
Lesly got into a second foster family after some time; however, when Lesly was fifteen, her foster mother was reported anonymously for abusing the children in her care.
The officials showed up and investigated, the children were taken away, but there was no Lesly in sight. After the authorities confirmed the accusations, she was searched for profusely, the police even dug up the foster mother's garden in fear she was murdered and buried there. It appeared that she was even mentioned in the news, but the case never gained prominence, as only her description was mentioned. Instead of a picture, they only showed a drawing of her.
Not long later, they got a tip that Lesly was in the village her grandmother had come from. Hurrying there, the police found Lesly happily living with a few old grandpas and grandmas, who took care of her in turns.
I laughed out loud when I read that, somehow I could picture her achieving that.
Lesly was brought back into another foster family, but she again went back into the village, only to be brought back not long after, changing to another family, until she was of age. Although she had run away, she still studied here and there, getting average results in the college examination, and then starting college, opting for P.E. teacher as a career.
Since then, nothing much happened, she lived in a small apartment, went to work, and went home. No husband, no children, no friends as well.
In the documents were a few pictures of her coming and going from work; I had already glimpsed at them while photographing; now I could zoom in closer.
When I saw an image of her buying cat litter, I had to smile. She was caring properly for her cat. And now, she has adopted me as well.
It seemed Lesly was inexperienced with relationships; nothing was mentioned in the report; besides that, there was no boyfriend or ex-boyfriend found. This meant our first meeting should have left her even more disgusted with me than I had estimated.
While strangely comforted about her not having any close contact with others, I now realized that she could be the daughter of Liliana Humphrey, her birth parents unknown.
Had my father really lost it completely, getting himself the daughter of his white moonlight? Where in the world was the original?
My own childhood was anything but fun, and it seemed my stepmother had similar experiences. Abandoned and injured in the outskirts, a grandmother with yearlong sickness died while sleeping in the same bed as her in a little house with only one bedroom, an orphanage stay and multiple foster families, among them with a violent foster mother.
I stood up and walked to Lesly, I wanted to see her, urgently.
And she gifted me with her being freed of my father's touch. Kneeling to her side, I laid my head on my arm, coming close to her to finally see the ocean in her eyes.
The calming waves, usually agitating me, are now providing a comforting lullaby.
She surprisingly touched me again, her hand combing through my hair, further tickling my insides. Again, it was me she touched, the small taboo already broken, I could relish on the fact that she had discovered my presence here with her, her wing sweetly enclosing me.
*************
Thomas POV
The Dunken family really dared to sneak in, impersonating you or your sister, by posing as Lesly's parents. They even managed to infuriate her seriously enough to confront me, albeit her behaving relatively obedient since having been brought back.
I could only feign ignorance to not incite my wife even more, letting myself be taken away for a talk by her 'Father'.
He spoke of how they found Lesly, and even if they were not direct relatives, only remotely connected (a lie - there was no connection at all), they still thought of me and my status as a recently widowed man, so they sent her to me.
After the short conversation, I already intended to destroy the Dunken family. Although they had brought the blue-eyed child back into my life, they had overstayed their welcome.
Coming back, I was amused to find Mrs. Dunken neck, hands, and ears bare, and my wife's pockets full.
My wife is really something else.
However, my good mood was destroyed by the black-eyed child acting out, making a scene like his mother did, and being violent to a woman like I had been.
So I wanted to ask my wife; I wanted to know.
Is my son beyond saving?
".... It is impossible to fight one's genes."
It is, isn't it?
Say that it isn't true.
Lesly, are you beyond saving? Are you also carrying evil in you?
Now with all I have done-
Can I still be saved?