The unexpected arrival
As we sat down for our first family dinner together, the warm glow of the chandelier above the table cast a golden light on the delicate china and crystal glasses. The aroma of roasted chicken and freshly baked bread wafted from the kitchen, making my stomach growl with anticipation. My mom, beaming with excitement, took her seat at the head of the table, with my dad to her right and Eliana to her left. I sat across from Eliana, trying to make eye contact, but she avoided my gaze, her eyes fixed on the silverware in front of her.
The table was set with our finest linens, and the centerpiece, a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers, added a pop of color to the room. My mom had gone all out to make this dinner special, and I could feel the tension in the air as we all waited for her to start the conversation. The sound of clinking glasses and the soft hum of the air conditioner in the background created a sense of anticipation, like we were all holding our breath, waiting to see how this new dynamic would play out.
As we began to eat, Eliana started to open up, sharing stories about her past and her experiences. Her voice was husky and confident, and she had a way of making everyone laugh. My parents were enchanted, and I could see the excitement in their eyes as they listened to her talk. But as the dinner wore on, I started to feel a pang of unease. Eliana's stories seemed rehearsed, and her laughter sounded forced. I pushed the feeling aside, telling myself I was just being paranoid.
It wasn't until she said something that made my heart skip a beat that I realized my instincts had been right. "I'm so grateful to have found my family," she said, her eyes locking onto mine. "I've always felt like something was missing, and now I know what it was." Her voice was laced with emotion, and my parents were eating it up. But as I looked into her eyes, I saw something there that gave me pause. It was a flicker of something hard and calculating, something that made me wonder if she was being genuine or just playing a role.
I reached out, trying to connect with her, and said, "I'm sorry, sis. I'm so happy to have you now." I patted her hand, trying to offer her some comfort, but she pushed my hand away, her expression twisting into a scowl. "Hold your sympathy," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I don't need it." She looked at me, her eyes glinting with amusement, and said, "I don't know if your sympathy is genuine or not." Before I could respond, my mom interrupted, her voice warm and gentle. "Darling..." she said, and my heart sank as I realized she was talking to Eliana, not me. "She's your sister," she continued, and I felt a sting of hurt as Eliana looked at me and said, "Oh, oops, I didn't notice she was my sister. I thought she was my maid."