A/N: i forgot the disclaimer in the first chapter. so here is it: i do not own the covenant or any of the original characters from the movie.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and something sparked in her green eyes, but it was gone before I could consider it. She blinked and a calm facade erased her brief moment of shock. "I'm sorry, but we don't have a daughter."
It felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, and for a moment I couldn't speak. She was lying. I knew she was lying. But why? "Yes, you do," I insisted. "You gave me away when I was a baby, and I was adopted."
My mother swallowed, and her fingers tightened on the edge of the door. "You must have the wrong house."
My eyes prickled, and I blinked back the moisture. "No, I don't. You said you were Heather Sims."
"And I am."
"That makes you my mother," I said. "Look, I have proof." I dropped the bags and bent down, digging desperately through the backpack for the paper, while keeping Kaylee balanced in my other arm. She had grown quiet, and was now watching Heather Sims. I stood, the paper in hand, and passed it to my mother. "Here. It's a copy of my birth certificate."
She took it in slightly trembling hands, and looked it over. As I watched, a tiny bit of color drained from her face. Her head snapped up so she could look at me. "Where did you get this?" she whispered hoarsely.
"My adoptive parents had it in their bedroom," I answered. My mouth and throat felt dry, and my breathing was shaky. I hadn't exactly expected a huge Welcome-To-The-Family party, but I had thought that she might be somewhat... glad to see me. I was her daughter, after all. But she seemed more freaked than happy.
She stepped aside and ran a hand through her light brown hair, the same color hair as mine. "I guess you should come in."
I hesitated, and then lifted the two bags and dragged them through the door; then dropped them out of the way by the wall. The door clicked shut as my mother closed it.
"Who was at the door?" a man called from another room. A few moments later, he walked into the entryway where we were. His short, messy brown hair was a few shades darker than my mother's, and his friendly blue eyes contrasted with his tanned skin. He slowed and smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Ah, who do we have here?"
I stared at him, my eyes locked with his. Stared into the blue eyes that mirrored as mine. My father.
"Tom," my mother began, and I noted that there was a small tremor in her voice. "This is Anya." She walked forward and handed him the birth certificate.
I watched as his eyes scanned the paper, and slowly, the friendliness faded from his face. He opened his mouth, and then closed it; swallowed, and looked up at me, his expression unreadable. "How.... This...." He glanced back down at the birth certificate and scratched the back of his neck nervously. "What a... surprise."
I shuffled my feet, and readjusted Kaylee in my arms. She had kept quiet, and her eyes were darting between me, my mother and my father, and back. I knew she had picked up my nervousness, and I felt bad about that. But at the same time, I marveled at her keen senses.
"Why don't we move into the living room?" my mother suggested, and she and my father turned and walked further into the mansion, and I followed with Kaylee.
The living room was somewhat large, with a leather sofa and three leather chairs, a large TV, and a fireplace; a long coffee table sat in the middle of the room and had magazines scattered across the top. On the mantel over the fireplace and along the walls were framed pictures. Some of men and women, and other of a teenage boy. He had short light brown hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a beautiful smile. Some pictures were of just him, while a few others were of him with four boys. In every picture, they were smiling and laughing. He looked so much like my father. Could it be?
"Who's the baby?" my father asked, breaking the tense silence.
I turned to face them. "Kaylee. Kaylee Ann Sims. My daughter."
"Daughter?" my mother repeated in surprise.
"Yes, daughter," I stated. They looked at each other and then back at me. I motioned to the pictures of the boy. "Who's that?"
"Tyler," my mother answered after a pause. "Our son."
"So he's my brother?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
She nodded.
"How old is he?"
"Same age as you," my father said quietly. "Seventeen."
I looked at the pictures again, and again felt my eyes began prickling. "When was he born?"
"Same day you were."
Same day. "We're twins?" My mother nodded. I breathed in and looked down at Kaylee, who was quietly fiddling with my pendent again. "Does he know about me?"
"No," my mother said, looking away.
At that moment, the front door opened and voices flooded the mansion. We all looked at the doorway as four boys appeared, laughing about something, but they stopped when they saw us. One was tall, with short dark hair, full lips, and soft brown eyes. Another was a little shorter than the first and had shoulder length dirty blond hair and hazel/green eyes. The third was also a little shorter than the first, with shaggy blond hair and bright, playful blue eyes. The last, the one from the pictures all around me, was the shortest by maybe an inch or two, with short brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Blue eyes that matched our father's, and mine, and brown hair that matched our mother's and mine. He was my brother. My twin.
My twin brother who didn't even know that I existed.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize there was company," Tyler said, clearing his throat and standing up straighter. His friends mimicked him and let him step to the front of the group.
"Tyler...." our mother began.
Our father put his hand on her shoulder and looked at his son. "We need to talk."
"About?" Tyler asked slowly, looking from our parents to me, and to Kaylee, a small frown creasing his forehead.
Our father cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "Tyler, this is Anya. Your sister."
"Sister?" Tyler echoed, looking at me quizzically; studying me. His friends looked completely confused.
"Like I said, we need to talk," our father restated.
Kaylee began to squirm in my arms. I knew she could feel the tension, and it was bothering her. "I want drink," she said, still squirming.
"Excuse me," I said quietly, and slipped out of the room, past Tyler's friends, and hurried over to my bags. I found one of the little juice boxes I had packed, and stuck the straw in and handed it to her. The floor creaked as people moved, and when I turned I saw Tyler's three friends leaving the living room and walking to the opposite side of the entryway, whispering fiercely between themselves.
"How the hell could you not tell me that I have a sister?" Tyler yelled, and I cringed. Kaylee's eyes darted to the living room door.
"We didn't tell anyone." Our mother's voice carried out from the room, and the three boys stopped talking.
"I'm not just anyone! I'm your son!"
"We didn't want anyone to know, including you," our father said.
Why hadn't they wanted anyone to know about me? This time when my eyes prickled as moisture built in them, I let it happen. It was a mistake to come here. I knew that now.
"Why the hell not?" Tyler bellowed angrily.
There was a pause. "We can't say."
"You can't say," Tyler repeated stonily. "What else haven't you told me, huh? What other secrets are you keeping from me?"
"Tyler," our mother said, trying to sound soothing. "Please calm down."
"Calm down? Calm down!" Tyler repeated heatedly. "A sister that I never knew I had just shows up out of nowhere, and you won't tell my why I never knew about her, and you want me to calm down? How could you keep something like this from me!"
"Tyler, we have our reasons," our father said.
Something smashed, and both Kaylee and I jumped.
"Tyler!" our mother gasped.
"Screw this!" Tyler rushed out of the living room and straight to the front door without looking at anyone, yanking it open and letting it slam into the wall as he stormed out. His friends looked from his parents, to me, and then quickly rushed out after him, closing the door behind them. Car doors slammed, an engine roared to life, and then tires squealed as the vehicle was whipped away from the mansion.