Cary sighed and flopped down onto her bed dramatically. Her parents were probably the worst parents in the history of lame parents.
(Yes, she was exaggerating. Yes, she was aware of it. No, she wasn’t going to stop.)
They weren’t going to answer her questions. They weren’t even going to acknowledge that she had questions and that they would have to answer them at some point.
(They were likely to actually go to their graves holding onto this secret, she suspected. It seemed to be that kind of secret and it was driving her nuts.)
It had started with a simple Biology assignment for school. They were learning about genetics and how they affect blood types within the family. Her parents were both Type O and she was Type AB. She looked like her parents and she was fairly certain that her mother hadn’t cheated on her father.
(They just didn’t have that vibe and what prodding she’d done had shown up as her parents being completely faithful to one another. And that they were both very aware that she apparently wasn’t theirs,thank you very much.)
Their manner towards her had never been any different from the way they treated her younger brother.
(Who was their biological child. She’d been there when her parents had explained why Mommy’s tummy was getting bigger and why she was going to have a younger brother. That had been a very traumatic thing to realize when she’d first gone through puberty and realized just what her parents would have to have done in order for her younger brother to be there at all.)
“This is going to bug me until the day I die if I don’t figure it out,” she mumbled to herself.