Disclaimer: I don't own anything Godfather-ish.
A/N: I like stories behind the stories. So, here goes.

Who are you?

She worked as a secretary. She was thirty-two years old. Her hair was ginger, her eyes were brown.
She stared into nothing, her hands hovering above her type-writer. The heavy machine sounded like raindrops falling down onto the street and the cars, but now it was silent.
"Miss Ackermann?"
The woman woke up from her trance and laid her hands on the table.
"Sir?"
"I want you to take some notes."
Her employer insisted on calling her by her maiden name. Or, well, the name of the foster parents who had been so good to adopt her.
She had been eight when she was placed into foster care. Her birth parents had passed away. She had long forgotten how they'd died. She didn't care to remember, as she'd been unusually lucky to have such good foster parents as she'd had and had been fairly happy. She didn't want to remember lousier times.
Of course, the war hadn't been that happy. Her husband had been ordered to fight in Europe. He'd actually reached Berlin when he was shot down by some Hitler jugend. This had given her a mixed feeling – her foster parents were German.
She was a widow. Her name was Dorothy Ackermann.
Dorothy walked into her employer's office.
"Sit down, Miss." He ordered.
The other man in the office looked at Dorothy and smiled. Dorothy smiled back.
"You don't mind, do you, Mr. Hagen, that I have my secretary take notes?"
Dorothy was puzzled. This Mr. Hagen hadn't been in the day planner. Her employer must've made this appointment himself. Or Mr. Hagen had just walked in. But then she'd have been notified.
"I prefer talking to you in private, Mr. Graham." Hagen said. Dorothy understood. She quickly left.
Back behind her type-writer, she began thinking. She studied the day planner but couldn't find this Mr. Hagen's name. And she was so sure she'd heard it before. She must've written it down at some time or something like that. Who was he? He looked like any other person that visited Mr. Graham, but she'd never been ordered to leave before. What kind of business did he have with Mr. Graham?Graham was a district attorney, so she could do the math, but it just felt weird. Something was off.
Mr. Hagen left Mr. Graham's office. Graham shook hands with Hagen.
"Sure Tom, I'll make sure. Give my regards to The Godfather."
Dorothy looked up at this Tom Hagen. He couldn't be much older than she was, perhaps a few years. She'd once had a brother named Tom. She'd never known what'd happened to him after she'd been placed into foster care. He was simply there the one day and gone the other. Could this…? Nah, it couldn't be. That'd be too weird.

Tom Hagen noticed how Mr. Graham's secretary kept staring at him. She probably had her own ideas of what his business with Mr. Graham was. Every employee of the people he had to see every once in a while had their ideas. Some were correct, some weren't. He'd stopped caring about what those people thought. And yet, there was something odd about the way this woman looked at him.
"Mr. Graham, I thank you for your time." Hagen turned around to leave and started walking towards the exit.

As soon as Mr. Graham'd closed the door, Dorothy got up from her chair and looked at Tom.
"Mr. Hagen, can I ask you a very personal question?"
Hagen sighed and looked at this woman. It was only because she looked so determined he bothered to answer.
"Sure."
"Did you ever have a sister?"
Hagen was taken aback by this question. He'd expected any question but this one.
"Yes, I did. Why'd you ask?"
Dorothy blushed. "Because I think you might be my brother."

A/N: I always wondered, ever since I read the novel, what happened with Tom's little sister. So, there you have it. I will publish the rest of my "theoretic fanfiction" on here if I get some nice reviews. Otherwise, I'll keep it on the inside of my head and no one will ever know I attempted to write this piece. So, please review, because I don't want it to go to waste.