Chapter 2

Brandon's POV

I walk in from piano rehearsal with the Grimm Reaper and all I want to do is run upstairs and go to bed. It's bad enough that I know I can't play like I use to, but to hear my teacher constantly reminding me isn't helping.

I throw my jacket on top of the coat rack and start to walk towards the stairs, when I see a blonde girl in a yellow shirt with a ladybug on it that reads "Don't Bug Me."

"Hey," I wave at her and she gives me a forced smile back. "Uh… I'm Brandon."

"Lux," she responds flatly.

I nod. "So… are you waiting for one of my sisters?"

"Uh… I have no idea…I'm actually waiting for Stefanie."

"Oh," I nod again. "You know my mom's at work, right?"

"Your mom? Wow…if this isn't the most awkward moment of my life…" she continues in a flattened-tone

I stare at her, wondering what exactly her problem is. "…My mom doesn't get out of work until after 6 so…does she know you're here?"

"Uh, no. Her wife let me in and said I can wait for her."

"You're waiting for her?" I question.

"Yeah."

"And my mom let you in?"

"No. Stefanie's wife did," she tries to correct.

"That's my other mom… Lena," I inform her with a bit of an attitude.

Lux squints her eyes at me as she just considered what I just said, but didn't really care. "Okay then."

"Well… Have fun waiting."

"I'll have a blast," she answers sarcastically, and I catch her rolling her eyes before I leave the room.

What the hell is this girl's problem? I think to myself while I walk into the kitchen and see Mama pouring two glasses of water, "So, uh? Who's that girl in the living room?"

"Just a friend of your mom's, I think."

"You think?" I question.

"Brandon, your mom's on her way. Don't worry about it, okay? Just be nice. Don't start policing her or anything like that. Just wait until she gets here and handles it. Okay?"

"I wasn't going to police her," I try to defend.

She gives me a look but I can tell that she's hiding a smile. "Brandon, I know you. You can be just like your mother at times. It's a cross you bear. But listen; let your mom deal with it when she gets here. I don't want you making this girl feel weird and having her leave and then come back. Just… I don't know? Be."

"Okay, I'll just… I don't know. Be."

"Brandon," she chastised.

"I got it."

"Okay," she looks at me with a confused expression right before she leaves the room with the glasses.

I follow her out of curiosity.

Lux's POV

As soon as Brandon leaves, I spot a picture of a ton of people on the wall. I glance around and realize that no one is looking at me, so I stand up and walk over to the picture frame. I grab it into my hands to inspect it. I notice a blonde wrapped around Lena's arms and realize that she might be Stefanie.

I run my fingers over her facial features and try to find a resemblance. Besides the blonde hair, I don't really see one.

Maybe this isn't the right Stefanie Foster, I repeat again.

I study all of the other people in the photograph and notice that I don't resemble anyone of them.

The second I hear footsteps in the hallway, I immediately put the picture back down and throw myself onto the nearest couch.

Lena walks in with Brandon following right behind her. She smiles at me again, "I brought you some water," she says as she places the glass in front of me on the table.

"I said I wasn't—"

She interrupts, "I know. I brought it just in case."

I nod, even though I have no intention to drink it.

"So… How do you know my wife, if you don't mind me asking?" Lena asks.

"Oh, I don't really know her. I've never even met her. Well…maybe once? I'm not even sure," I mumble the last part.

"Oh," Lena responds and I know that made absolutely no sense to her.

I knew I should've waited outside. The heat rays making my skin boil sounds like a better option than having to sit through this awkward conversation.

I can tell that she expects me to continue talking, but I won't. The less information I give, the better.

"If you've never met her, then why are you here?" Brandon interjects angrily.

"I need her signature on something."

"Her signature?" Lena questions.

"At least, I think it's her signature" I murmur. I look back up at the two faces that are giving me confused looks, "It's complicated. I'd rather just talk to Stefanie about it."

Stef's POV

I walk into my house and quickly make my way over to the living room, searching for the girl that my wife probably let roam around my house. Luckily, I find Lena, Brandon, and the young blonde girl, who I still don't recognize, sitting in the living room.

"Hey Love," I greet Lena and give her a quick peck on the lips and place my hand on Brandon's shoulder. I look over to the girl again, "Hi. Can I help you?"

She stares at me strangely for a long time, before she finally speaks, "You're Stefanie Foster?" she asks in disbelief.

"Uhuh," I assure her with a nod.

"…And you're a cop?" she continues with the same tone.

I squint my eyes at her, "Yes?"

"Oh, sorry. Um… Is there somewhere else we can… talk?" she asks as she stares at me and then Brandon and Lena.

"That's not necessary. We'll leave you two alone" Lena says, while getting up and practically dragging Brandon toward the kitchen.

I turn around and try to smile at her, but I'm still a little suspicious as to what she's doing here in the first place. I actually prefer that Lena and Brandon left the room now, because I wasn't sure exactly who this kid was, or why she was looking for me if she didn't even know me. I didn't want them to be there if I had to kick her out for whatever reason. "So, what's up?" I question in a firm tone. She was a kid, but I knew better than to given into her looks.

"Oh, yeah. Right…" She pulls a paper out of her pocket and glances down at it, "Is your birthday June 1st, 1973?"

How does she know that?

"Yes. How do you know that?"

"Because, I'm sort of…comprised of half your gene pool," she mumbles.

"What?" I ask in confusion.

"I'm your daughter."

"My what?" I ask her after I'm positive I've misheard her.

"Your daughter."

I take a second to breathe and try to figure out how I'm going to let this girl down, "…Look, I'm sorry, kid. I think you've been mistaken. I don't have a daughter. Well, that's not true. I have two daughters, but I'm pretty sure they're having lunch at school right now."

"Oh… So… you didn't have a kid on September 24, 2000 at St. Rose hospital with a guy named Mike Foster?" she asks me to validate.

How does she know that? Only Mike and Lena knew about that. "Where are you getting this information from?" I question angrily. I hated even thinking about that day.

"So, did you or didn't you? Have a baby, I mean…"

"Yes. She was stillborn. And I don't know how you found out about any of this but—"

The blonde teen scratches her head in confusion, "Yeah, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I'm not dead so…"

I can't even force myself to respond to her.

The teen sighs heavily, "Look, I'm not hear to ask you for anything if that's what you're thinking. Trust me, I'm not—"

"What?" I continue as I try to wrap my head around how barbaric all of this sounded. "What are you… I don't…" I shake my head in protest.

"Look… Stefanie," she sighs again. "Okay, you and someone had a kid. You gave up that kid. I am that kid. And now I'm applying for emancipation." She waits for me to respond, but I'm still mentally trying to figure out how she wound up with all of this information. "…Okay… So, I was putting together the paperwork for my hearing and it turns out that no one ever signed a permanent release of rights." She hands the paper to me and continues, "My case worker was going to take forever to get it signed, so when I saw your name on the top of the file, I just kinda…Okay, basically until you sign that piece of paper you are still legally… my mom."

I scan the paper and glance at all of the information on it. Her name, her birthday, my birthday, Mike's. It's all correct.

"I can't sign this," I try to give it back but she doesn't take it.

"No! Look! Okay, I know that you must've convinced yourself that I was a stillborn or whatever, but I really really need you to sign this paper. I promise you that I'm not trying to hassle you for money or anything. Once you sign the paper, I promise that I'll never bother you again. I swear! It will be like none of this ever happened. And you can go back to believing that I'm dead, or whatever else you want to believe—"

I take a deep breath. This has been a mix-up, I rationalize. "Lux, is it?"

"Uhuh," she answers.

"I can't sign this. It's not that I don't want to. It's because… I'm notyour mother… I'm sorry," I explain, attempting to hand the paper back over to her again.

She snatches it back, "Listen, Stefanie. Stef, whatever you go by. I don't want to be here as much as you don't want to have me here. The thing is… my emancipation hearing is the day after tomorrow and if I don't get these signatures, both signatures, then I'm going to have to spend another four years bouncing around foster care with Scope drinking moms and creepy dads that try to hit on me, which, to be blunt, blows! Now if you could just sign this!"

I grab the paper in my hands and I have half a mind to sign it, just to help the girl out…but then I look over at her again, "I'm not signing this. I'm sorry."

"Why not?" she practically yells.

"Because…"

"Because why?" she snaps.

"Lux," I try to keep my cool even though this stranger yelling at me in my own house was making me irritable. " I can't sign it because I'm not your mother."

"But the paper says—"

"I know what the paper says," I interrupt her. "But you are not my kid. There has been a mix-up at the hospital and—"

"What mix-up! It's your name! Your birthday! Mike's name! Mike's birthday! My name! My birthday! And it's a birth certificate! Not a death one! I'm standing right here!"

"Oh my God!" I practically yell as I try not to make eye contact with her, before I grab the girl by her arm and start to walk her over toward the front door.

"Let go of me!" she argues as I watch her struggle to break free. "Where are you taking me?"

"If you're not going to listen to me, then we're going to the hospital and figuring this out, once and for all!"