A/N: This story is set before the hole Sandy drama, but while Martin lives in the house. Hopefully this chapter works for you. Pretty much all the chapters are Ruthie-centric. I may put Simon's POV or maybe Martin's POV in the story too, but otherwise it's just Ruthie. If you have a problem with that please don't read the story.

This story is basically a re-do of a story I started awhile ago. I have no idea if anyone actually remembers it considering I posted an update a year ago or so. If you do remember anything about the other story just know that its not going to be the same story. I few things may be similar but other than that it's going to be whole new story with the same original idea. Originally, I was going to edit everything and just put it in the old fic, but I've decided to take a completely different approach and I do believe that this approach is far more believable.

You won't be able to find the other version I deleted it...evil grin btw, this chapter introduces everything, if it feels a bit slow please don't think that is going to continue. This is going to be very dramatic piece. I promise! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Ruthie, Martin, the Camdens or anything. The only thing I own in the story is the plot and my OC characters. So please don't sue me! You'll your waste your money. :P

Summary: One night Ruthie was casually searching for some scratch paper in her father's home office for school, when she happened upon a letter. Foolishly, she read the letter and discovered a terrible truth that would change her life forever. Will Ruthie be able to cope with the awful truth? Will she ever forgive her parents for hiding it for so long? And will Martin be able to protect her from her past?

Edit: I upgraded this chapter. I think its more interesting this way.

Ruthie Camden had always led a rather simple life. Yes, she was the intelligent and clever one. She had the guts of someone twice her size and the wit of an adult, but she had never wanted a complicated life. She lived to get good grades, go to a nice a school, and marry a nice boy.

She didn't know her life would change in a few short hours. She didn't know that everything she had lived for, for sixteen years—wasn't true.

She was a reverend's daughter and had her family's reputation to uphold. In some ways, she did. She was much smarter than your average kid. When she was in middle school, she was sent to a private school because regular institutions were to easy.

She was better than your average joe at riding horses. But as she got older, she discovered she had one major flaw—math. She was terrible at it.

How she was supposed to know how many arguments her family would have? How was she to predict the late nights; the loss of brain cells, and the bad grades? Yes, her intelligence was beyond most, but not in that subject.

Incidentally, it was that life changing day, Ruthie was laying diagonally on the bed, attempting to do her useless math homework. Her eyelids dropped and she blinked. One thing Ruthie was sure of—she hated math. Math had to be the most boring subject ever invented. It wasn't like other subjects that required the ability to think. No, math always had a right answer. But, life didn't.

She sighed. It was nearly 9 PM and she had yet to finish one problem.

"X equals 7... that has to be it." She said to herself. Ruthie checked her answer on the piece of paper with pink eraser marks etched in it. She pursed her lips. She had finally completed the problem that had her several hours.

"No... that can't be right." The answer sheet read "8" in bright red letters. Ruthie shut the book with a loud thump and threw her pen at the door.

"Why does math have to be so difficult?" She yelled and no one in particular.

After a few seconds of staring at her pen on the floor, she decided it wasn't worth it. She gave up and decided to get a snack. Besides, her stomach was grumbling. The curly haired brunette hadn't eaten much for dinner, and it didn't hurt to put off math as long as possible.

Ruthie went downstairs to the kitchen. She opened the white refrigerator with a light jerk. She had hoped her Mom had gone to the store and bought some snacks. The girl held her nose. Her Mom hadn't gone to the store.

In fact, there was nothing appetizing except an old piece of chicken that smelled like a garbage dump. Ruthie cringed and shut the refrigerator. She wasn't hungry anymore.

She glanced down the hallway. There were muffled sounds coming from the TV. She grinned. It was Martin. No one else would be watching TV at 9 pm in the evening.

Ruthie headed for the living room. She loved bothering the dark haired boy. He may have been older, but he was also cute when his lips curled into an irritated frown.

She rounded the corner with a spark in her eye, and spotted Martin flipping through channels. He had a drone like expression on his face.

"Hey." Ruthie grinned. "Already finished your homework." She plopped down next to Martin.

Martin turned off the TV, his bored expression had disappeared. "Yeah...I finished it awhile ago."

"Big surprise." She smirked. She had only known Martin for a year, but for some reason he was the only one she felt completely comfortable around.

"Well, I am a good student." He winked and took a sip of a coke on the table. "What about you? Did you finish your Algebra?"

"Um..." Ruthie's cheeks turned a shade of pink. "Mostly."

"Mostly..." Martin faked astonishment. "Why, I'm ashamed of you Ruthie Camden. What would your dad say?"

Ruthie pursed her lips. "He wouldn't be too happy."

"Too true." Martin chimed. "Which is why, you need to step it up a notch, Miss Camden!"

"I know." Ruthie was staring at the floor. "He tells me every other day. 'Ruthie your a Camden, your a smart girl, use your intelligence. You shouldn't be failing math, no excuses."

Martin eyes softened. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—I was just."

Ruthie shook her head. "Is' ok."

"I mean your dad can be really strict sometimes, but on the other hand, you are pretty bad at math."

Ruthie glared and whacked him on the shoulder, but she was laughing. Martin always could brighten her day.

"Hey, that wasn't necessary, your gonna bruise my arm..." he groaned.

"Oh, not so tough now are you?" Ruthie smiled up at him. He had such nice green eyes. Then, she realized she had thought that, and glanced at the floor again.

"Hey, you sure you ok," Martin sounded so concerned. She would never admit it, but she liked that he cared about her.

"Yep, I'm good. Well, except for my math homework." Ruthie looked up again. She could see his mind ticking.

"Do you need help?" he asked a beat later.

Ruthie pretended to ponder the thought. She was so relieved he was willing to help, her fake pondering only took a second. "Ok, but don't be too hard on me. I am bad at math after-all."

"No problem." Martin agreed.

Minutes later, the pair sat on Ruthie's bed with piles of papers and pencils. Martin was explaining a basic algebra problem to get her up to speed. Ruthie was already regretting saying yes to Martin. No fun and games, just math. "...so," Martin said. "in order to determine x you must first put the number alone. Then it will be x equals 'fill in the blank.' Do you see?"

Ruthie chewed her lip. "Eh...yep."

"Really?" Martin wasn't convinced. "What's x then?"

"Er...well," Ruthie grunted. "X is um, 30? No wait!" She stared at the problem for several more seconds, her head was beginning to ache. "I got it. It's 40!"

Martin pointed at the somewhat crumpled piece of paper. "No, the answer is seven. 5x=35 is seven." Martin's eyes gazed at her, concern filled his eyes. She twiddled her thumbs. "Ruthie, this is basic algebra. Your in algebra 2, you should've asked for help a long time ago. Your going to f—"

"Don't say fail!" Ruthie was up. On any other day, he could give her a lecture, but she was tired and sick of math. Her head ached. "Martin, I have enough lecture's from my dad without hearing them from you too. And I can do these problems. I'm just tired and...I can't concentrate. So stop acting like my dad!"

Martin was stunned. He glanced from her to the papers and tossed them aside. "I think it would be best if we take a break," he muttered.

Ruthie nodded determined to keep her composure. "I'll grab some paper. I'm running out anyway."

"Ok," he looked sad. Ruthie took a step, but a warm hand caught her hand. "Listen, Um—I, well—"

"Yes?" She frowned.

"Never-mind, its nothing." For a moment, Ruthie thought Martin looked embarrassed. She was going to ask him what was wrong, but she caught herself. She was mad at him—right?

She hurried for the door, hiding the concern in her eyes. He didn't like her. She was younger than him and besides, they lived together. It would never work. She did not like Martin she repeated to herself. Although, she knew even she didn't believe it.

In a slight daze, she made her way downstairs. She wondered if Martin was still going out with that one girl. She couldn't remember her name. She didn't like the girl though. The blondie reminded her of a high barbie doll from the planet "like, yeah."

Once she was downstairs, Ruthie poked her head into her father's office. The room was empty. Relieved, she went into the office and searched for more paper. Maybe Martin only thought of her like a little sister. She sighed, why was everything so complicated?

Ruthie searched in the cabinet. No paper. It was then, she realized she had no clue where the paper was. As a little girl, Ruthie was never allowed in her Dad's office, except on very few occasions. The few times she did come in were with her Dad. This was the first time she had ever spent time alone in his office.

Ruthie searched the floors, the piles, the cabinets, even the closet, but still no paper. Everything seemed to be related to the church.

She sighed. Paper didn't seem that important at the moment. It was going upstairs to Martin—and math. That was the problem. Maybe she could just feign sickness or something.

She was about to walk out the door when she spotted several letters poking out from a compartment. Everything else in the room was relatively organized, it seemed strange.

Ruthie opened it. Inside, there were all sorts of letters from her dad's associates. Glancing from one to the other, Ruthie browsed through them. Her dad was such a good person. She wished she could live up to his expectations.

Ruthie fingered through every letter. She wondered if when she was older, people would write so many thankful letters to her. She was more of a failure than any of her other siblings. She had a brain, but she lacked ambition. She sighed, deciding looking at the letters was making her depressed.

She took one last glance at the letters and froze. Yellow paper? In the middle of the compartment, there was a dusty old letter that was a yellowish color. It reminded her of the old days before the printing press was invented.

Ruthie snatched the letter. She rubbed the front. It was written in perfect cursive. "Reverend Camden and his wife." She pursed her lips.

She hadn't read any of the other letters, but this one was so—yellow. What was an old piece of paper doing in the middle of her dad's cabinet? Its hard to say why Ruthie opened that letter. Maybe it was because the envelope was missing. Honestly, she didn't know why she read it. Though, she was a Camden and they tended to pry their noses where they didn't belong.

Unfolding it, she read it aloud to herself:

Dear Reverend Camden,

As parents, we have to do what's best for our child. We've heard of your kindness and love towards those in need. We thought you might find our daughter a family that loves her just as much as we adore and cherish her. Please don't attempt to find us...we know you will try, but please don't. Were only doing what's best for our little girl. We have considered all possibilities and this is the only one that makes sense.

Our child's first year of life, we tried to take care of her, but it proved to be far to hard on us and the baby. We feel it is better for her if she is given a home that can care for her the way she should be. We hope you understand.

As our final request, we ask you call our baby by the name we gave her. We named her Ruth after her mother, but we call her Ruthie. Please! Please give her a good home.

Love,

Desperate Parents

Ruthie's eyes widened. She re-read the last part. We named her Ruth...we call her Ruthie. We call her Ruthie. Ruthie.

She knew they're couldn't be that many Ruthie's in the small town of Glenoak. She gulped. Feeling light-headed, her legs collapsed onto the ground.

She wasn't a Ruthie Camden. She never had been a Camden. She was the baby on the doorstep. She was the—the stowaway.

Ruthie swallowed the lump in her throat. She clenched her hand, the paper crumpling beneath it. Did the Camden's really love her? Was her whole life a lie? Did everyone know? A single tear fell down her eye. "Why didn't you tell me?" She muttered to no one in particular.

Questions flooded through her mind. She wiped away the tear. More tears threatened to fall, but she didn't let them. She couldn't.

With a shaking hand, Ruthie un-crumpled the and read it again. She hoped she was imagining things.

But deep down she knew it was true. Still, she kept reading the letter. Again and again and again. She must have read it twenty times before she put it down. She examined each word... each syllable...everything. Her head throbbed. Each time she finished the letter, a stomach churned and her head weighed down harder. She wanted to rip the paper in half and pretend it didn't exist.

"Ruthie?" A soft male voice echoed, a glint of concern sounded in his deep voice.

She froze. Startled she looked up and she noticed the figure of Martin, standing in the doorway. She looked away. What was she going to say?

A/N: I hope everyone liked the chapter. Please R&R! Reviews will get chapters faster!