"Hi! Beca Mitchell, my six o'clock?" Brenda, the overly enthusiastic middle aged counselor had turned to greet her, sliding a folder into a sliding cabinet and pushing it closed before coming around the desk and motioning Beca to sit in the chairs.

Beca looked around, surrounding by large and overly posed portraits of children with their adoptive parents, one catching her eye of just one mother, holding her child's hand with what appeared to be a grandmother, each holding a hand of the child's and swinging him into the air. She cringed knowing that this could never be her father's relationship with his grandchild, let alone ever with her when she had been a child, hand holding and swinging being strictly her mother's thing. Beca knew that from birth she had won over her father's heart, straight from the moment the nurse had handed her over and her father coddled her in his arms, doting over her with a proud papa face only experienced parents could recognize.

Her mother told her so from a young age, telling Beca how she wished that she had been so young and clueless, but ever so thankful that it didn't stop her from keeping Beca. A young woman taking on the world and a new child, though her father (of course) had been adamant on adoption from the very first sign of a positive on that dollar store pregnancy test, a young couple barely ready to even raise a longed to have that with her child, to show the picture her mother had shown to her time upon time of her father doting over her, but she knew it would only infuriate him so she resorted to at least make an attempt, or make it look like she was honestly going to pursue adoption, but Beca had bigger plans.

The less her dad knew, the better, but as long as he believed she was there he would be content. So she went to a genetic counselor to help learn her history and make her decisions. She wanted reassurance that this was right by learning more about her family. She wanted to understand why her father was so upset about the adoption, and why he wanted her to do so.

"Did you manage to find out a way that the information could be faxed to me despite the disclosure policy?" Beca bluntly jumped right to the chase often.

"Your name is still in the files, and as the child you still have the rights to look into your family history. Your parents applied through us when they had first considered adoption, at least that's what the paperwork reads." She informs her, sliding the folder across the wooden table to Beca.

She knew her mother said that they couldn't really make it as young adults, barely able to pay the rent on time, her father only a lowly substitute still paying off his debts and her mother a stay at home wife, working only part time at the daycare down the street, most of her twenty hours being strictly volunteer.

"Why do they need to know about our history? Would it impact whether or not they kept me or the parents would adopt me?" Beca demands, clearly feeling as if she needed an answer for everything.

"We're sponsored and connected to a genetic testing and family tree agency. You're parents had you guys tested because the potential parents wanted to know about the history. We've kept it in your files all these years, and you have the rights to look at them too. You have the right to know about your family history."

"What's there to know? I know my parents considered adoption with me."

"We have files for you, your parents, and your siblings." Brenda offers.

"But I'm an only child." Beca interjected clearly baffled."

Brenda shook her head, her face blase as she reached behind her and sliding it across the desk.

"This is your sisters file; She was adopted, but this is the genetic information we have on her. To my knowledge,we don't have much information on her outside of her history and blood types. All the other stuff like birth certificates and her name and such is private and for the adoptive parents.

"My parents knew all these years and didn't tell me?!" Still baffled, but also slightly angered. "How old is she?!" She demands.

"Beca, I strongly recommend asking your parents about the adoption, to better understand. It's important to have family support, and maybe bring peace of mind on your decision for your baby."

"Forget that! Is this why my father is so weird about my baby being adopted? or does it make him want me to give it up even more?! How can I find a bomb out like this and not know anything. Not that I'd want to meet her or anything. I'm just having trouble understanding how this is possible! My parents would have had to be like, fifteen or sixteen when they had her!"

"I'm really sorry I can't tell you much other than your history and genetics. I hope you find out what you need to have peace. We can set up another meeting after the baby is born?"

Beca stands up, slamming her chair into the cabinet behind her and gathering her things. She was frustrated and confused, and hadn't meant to overreact. Maybe it wasn't relevant before, but her father wanting her to put the baby up for adoption and Chloe trying to get her to keep it confused the heck out of her. It made her want answers because right now, she had no idea what she wanted. Though, the more she thought about it, the more she sided with Chloe, not because she was angry at her father, but because she didn't want to be him.

"We'll see about that, Brenda!" She muttered as she slammed the office door behind her, making her way into the night.