Saxon’s Distortion by C.A. Rene

Amelia

I step out of the lecture hall and hold my hand above my brow, blocking the bright sun. It’s been a long day and all I want to do is go back to my dorm and sleep. But I’ve been summoned back to Whitsborough by my brother. It’s about the wedding, but it’s difficult to psych myself up to their level of excitement. Yes, I’m happy they’re finally getting married, thought it would’ve been sooner, but yes, I want to be a part of the wedding. I’m just tired.

“Amelia?” I turn at the familiar voice and see Veronica Hanes. “Hey.” She smiles and I catch the wariness in her tone. We were friends for a brief period in high school but her mean girl attitude eventually pissed me off.

“Hey.” I smile back. “I didn’t know you went here.”

“Final year,” she nods, “transferred from Whitsborough. How are you?”

“I’m good.” It’s fucking awkward talking to people you haven’t seen in a while and it’s even worse for me because I’m just awkward in general.

“I hear Ivy is getting married to your brother.” She grins.

“Yeah,” I nod, “don’t tell your sister.” The words just tumbled from my mouth before I can stop them, and my groan is instantaneous. “Sorry.” I shake my head.

Ivy and Veronica’s sister Riley dated for a bit back in high school and their relationship was the epitome of toxic. It ended because Ivy wasn’t invested but Riley was bitter for a long while after that.

“It’s fine,” she chuckles and adjusts the large sunglasses on her face. “I’m sure she knows. My ride's here.” Her hand touches my forearm, “I’ll see you around.”

I nod and watch her walk by. I can see the side of her face behind the glasses as she does, and I swear her left eye is bruised. But she rushes over to a black SUV before I can say anything, hopping inside. The vehicle peels out of the parking lot, and I stand staring after it.

“I’ve made some of Nana Jenna’s punch,” Sharla—Saxon’s Grandma—says as she comes into the room with a large punch bowl. “Babies will be made tonight.” She pats Neil’s head and Ivy slaps her forehead with a groan.

“It really is like fertility nectar,” Emmett nods as he pours himself a glass.

“Not anymore.” Adri huffs, “thank God.”

I love when the whole Greene/Torres family gets together, and I get the privilege to be a part of it. It’s pure comedic gold. Ivy and Neil want to get married in the backyard of this home like Ivy’s parents and Emmett, Travis, and Adri did. I think it’s romantic and a sweet gesture. I’m Ivy’s maid of honour and Saxon is Neil’s best man, although my brother has been shooting him daggers all night.

“With Mom officiating,” Ivy says, “I would like both Dad and Nana Sharla to walk me down the aisle.”

Sharla lets loose a high-pitched scream and rushes over to Ivy, peppering her face with kisses.

“She only ever gets this excited for wine or younger men.” Saxon says as he leans into me, causing my brother to snarl in his direction. “Will you calm down, tiger?” Saxon turns on him.

My mother Shay grabs Neil’s arm and gives it a pat, unknowing why they are at each other’s throat this time, and here’s to me hoping it stays that way.

“What’s your problem anyway?” Vin—Saxon’s dad—asks Neil. “You’ve been looking like Saxon shit in your bed.”

“Amelia and I slept together and now he’s pissy.” Saxon says as he sips his beer.

Crickets. The whole fucking place is silent, and the air is tinged with shock.

“Amelia?” My father looks between us in confusion, “I thought… you know.”

I do know what he means, but before I can utter a single word, Saxon clears it all up.

“She’s still a lesbian,” he nods.

“I’m completely confused.” My mother grits out, “and you two should’ve said something.”

“Another throuple?” Ember asks and looks around with a grin. “It’s becoming a fucking trend.”

“Hell yeah,” Emmett raises his glass, “wait, is it the librarian?”

“We’re not a throuple,” Saxon shakes his head adamantly. “I just like to join them when I’m feeling like having a good time.”

“Enough!” My brother bellows, and the place falls silent. “Stop divulging my sister’s sex life!”

Thank God he said something because if this continues, I will die of embarrassment. It’s moments like this I wish Saxon’s fucking mouth had an off switch. He looks at me and whatever he sees has his eyes widening.

“Amelia, they’re family.” He shakes his head.

“Are you going to marry my sister?” Neil continues.

“Neil!” I scream, and once again the room falls quiet, “it’s none of anyone’s business.” I slap the back of Saxon’s head. “You need to learn to keep your mouth shut.”

“Sorry.” He looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his head.

“I just thought she was a lesbian.” My dad whispers to my mother, and I groan again.

“I can hear you.” I snap, and he bites into his lip.

“Listen,” Ember gets up and comes over to me. Her hand runs through my curls and then she pulls me into her body. “You will always be our family, and no one here is putting a label on anything. Now,” she reaches over and slaps her son’s head, “learn to respect the women you’re sleeping with and keep the details private. Fucking dumbass.”

“Ow.” Saxon whines and begins to rub the same spot again. “I said sorry.”

“Anyways,” Ivy breaks the awkward conversation and throws me a wink, “I don’t want any children here, so I was thinking to ask Dahlia to be my flower woman?”

The room erupts into oh’s and aw’s and I get up from my seat, heading out of the family room. I need away from the intensity of my family, and need the focus to stay on Ivy. A talk is necessary with Neil since he seems to think my sex life is his fucking business. I step into the kitchen and lean on the counter, spreading my palms on the cool marble surface. I pray it absorbs and my body cools down from the embarrassment.

His scent washes over me, like pine and spice, and when his warmth hits my back, the tension leaves my muscles.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He says, “not sure why you’re embarrassed to begin with, it’s not like you’re sleeping with random men.” He doesn’t get why I’m feeling this way, he’s always asking though, which tells me he wants to learn.

“Having my parents know I’m having sex,” I spin around and we’re so close, our noses brush, “is embarrassing.”

“You do know how you were created, right?” his head cocks to the side as his hand begins to grab the fabric of my long skirt, bunching it in his fist.

“Gross.” I shake my head with a smile.

“Besides, I would rather them know,” his fingers finally reach the skin of my outer thigh, “I want to touch you whenever I feel like it,” he leans in and kisses me softly, “kiss you when I get the urge,” his tongue flicks against my lip, “and not care what anyone thinks.”

“They will think we’re together.” I don’t want our family to see something or hope for something that’s not really there, and I don’t want to put a wedge in our friendship.

“Is that what you want, Amelia? A relationship with me?” He looks confused and he draws back away from me as if touching me is forcing us to that conclusion.

“No,” I shake my head, “I don’t know.” Honesty is always important with Saxon.

“I don’t know what a relationship with me would look like, Melly.” He sucks his plump lower lip into his mouth, “I’m frequently away, treasure my alone time, and I’m not good with sharing my life. I understand all those things are important to people who decide to start a relationship.”

“I know,” I do know what he’s saying, “I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship, anyway. I like Cory, too.”

“I like her, too.” He nods, “but for you. I think you two fit.”

“Are you pushing me away now?” It suddenly feels like he’s pushing me toward Cordelia.

“No,” he steps back into my space, our bodies touching, and his breath on my cheek, “I’m not changing anything, I just can’t commit to more.”

“Ever?”

“Quite possibly.” He answers honestly.

“And you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like this is over?”

“If it comes to that,” he nods. “I like us,” he grins and kisses my nose, “I like all three of us.”

“She won’t ever sleep with you.” I chuckle.

“I like that, too.” He continues to grin, “Now, are you going to let me feel how wet your pussy is or are you going to tell me that’s embarrassing, too?”

Saxon

I can see her confusion about what it is we’re doing and her need to put a label on it. Most people are this way, needing to define a feeling or name their connections. I can’t do that, and probably never will. So, I refuse to lead Amelia on in any way. She’s my friend and she’s the closest thing I have outside of family. Lying would wreck us faster than fucking.

“Well?” I nudge her thighs apart.

“Saxon,” she slaps my hand away, “our parents are in the next room.”

“And that’s why I told them we’re sleeping together,” I raise a brow at her, “now they can’t act shocked whenever we touch.”

Her cheeks heat with my words and the flush spreads down her neck, just as she tips her head back with a little moan. Yeah, if she thought I wouldn’t touch her after that, she needs a fucking lobotomy. I glide my fingers up the inside of her thigh and when they meet the apex, it’s my turn to fucking moan. She isn’t wearing any underwear, and I grin into her neck knowing she did it for me. I spread her pussy open and press a finger to her clit, giving it a few circular rubs.

“Yes,” she breathes and my cock jerks against my pants.

I replace my finger with my thumb, keeping up with the circular motions and I sink two fingers deep inside her at the same time. Her pussy clamps around them and I bite into the skin on her neck, mindful not to leave marks. I don’t want to send her into the family room like that, it would be like feeding a baby deer to the wolves.

My fingers thrust in and out of her, my thumb working tight circles against her clit, and my fucking cock is straining against my pants. I want to just pull my pants down in the front and sink all the way inside her.

“I want to be inside of you,” I say into her neck and her breasts heave as her panting picks up. “I want to feel this wet pussy around my cock.”

“Do it,” she says just as we hear our families laugh in the other room, “be quick.” She pulls herself up onto the counter and drags her skirt up around her waist, her pretty wet pussy taunting me. “Hurry!”

I don’t waste any time pulling the waistband of my pants down at the front and lining myself up to her entrance. “Quick you said, right?” I smirk at her and grab her hips. I slam myself inside her and she bites down onto her hand to stop herself from screaming out.

I piston in and out of her, the sounds of our smacking flesh and her wetness loud in the large room. The hand not firmly held between her teeth is digging into my bicep and she clenches a little harder with each thrust. Then she detonates, her pussy clamping around me, pulsing and soaking my cock. I slam in and grind against her, prolonging her release.

“Seriously?” Neil’s voice sounds angry from the kitchen doorway, “you both came in here to make out?”

He’s standing in the doorway behind me, and my body is covering all of Amelia’s save for her legs around my waist. My movements cease inside her, but her pussy is still pulsing, and she’s lost in the bliss of her orgasm because she’s still grinding against me.

“You’re going to have to walk back to where you came from,” my voice is raspy as my balls tighten, “otherwise you’re going to see exactly what it is I’ve been doing to your sister.”

Then without warning, I pull nearly all the way out and slam back in, her wet pussy squelching around my cock.

“Oh fuck,” he says before he scurries away.

“My brother,” Amelia begins, sounding panicked.

“Shhh,” I put my hand over her mouth and continue slamming into her. I’m so close; I really don’t need to focus on her brother right now.

But the thought of him seeing me plow into his sister flips something inside of me, and I’m fucking coming so hard I can’t help the loud groan that escapes. I erupt into scorching flames as my body trembles with the force of my release.

“Fuck, Saxon,” I open my eyes to see Amelia staring at my face, “that was so fucking hot.” She clenches around me again and I groan, dropping my chin to my chest. “Fuck, my brother walked in here. I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” she whines as I step back and pull out of her. “How can I go face him now?”

“I’d bet he’s just as embarrassed as you are, doubt he’ll say a single thing.” I tuck my still wet cock into my pants.

She hops down off the counter and groans, making her way to the washroom. She must be dripping with the load I just filled her with.

“Saxon!” I turn and find an angry looking Ivy, “what the fuck?”

“Exactly,” I snap my fingers and point at her, “a good fuck.”

“Saxon!”

“What?” I throw my arms out, “you fucked Neil on the damn table we eat off!”

“Eww.” Dahlia says as she walks into the kitchen, dropping her backpack on the floor. “Ivy, that’s really unhygienic.”

“I cleaned it!” Ivy snaps at her.

“Hey, don’t you dare take your frustrations out on her.” I wag my finger at Ivy, “she has nothing to do with this.”

“But did you clean it with disinfectant?” Dahlia continues, and Ivy lets out a huff.

“Dahlia, it was long ago, it was cleaned.” Ivy deflates and irritation bleeds into her tone. “Now Saxon has to clean the counter.”

“What?” Dahlia’s head snaps to me, “did you make a mess on the counter? By yourself?” The last part is whispered, and Ivy begins to laugh.

“Apparently, I can’t talk about it because it’s embarrassing.” I fold my arms across my chest.

“Well yeah,” Dahlia steps closer and drops her voice, “could you not wait until you were alone later, and maybe in your room?”

Ivy falls against the wall, laughing harder and I roll my eyes at the naivety of my little sister.

“Little flower,” she softens with her nickname, “I was not alone.”

“Oh.” She straightens and her eyes widen.

Amelia takes that opportune moment to come back from the washroom, and the kitchen falls silent, save for Dahlia’s little gasp.

“Wait, surely not Amelia.” She says quietly, “isn’t she?”

“Oh my God,” Amelia tosses her hands up, “is everyone in our business?”

“Sorry,” Dahlia says, looking remorseful. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and haul her into me, giving Amelia a pointed glare.

Dahlia shrugs out from under my arm and shakes her head, “if you didn’t wash the counter, I’m betting you haven’t washed your hands.” She shudders as Ivy lets loose another loud cackle. She walks out of the kitchen and past a shocked Amelia.

I bring my fingers to my nose and take an audible sniff, “she’s not wrong.” I move to the sink, and Amelia groans. Ivy is dying at this point as she slowly makes her way to the table and sits down.

“What the fuck?” Neil strides in, his face a mask of fury. “Amelia, get in my car, I’m taking you home.”

“Neil,” Ivy tries to speak around her giggles, “they’re adults.”

“They’re our siblings!” He whispers harshly, “and we’re getting married!”

“We’re not related, you idiot.” I snort, “but this whole taboo twist you’re putting on it, makes me want to utilize our kitchen table next.”

Amelia and Neil’s mouths drop, making them look nearly identical and Ivy is once again a blubbering mess. I don’t know how Ivy deals with his overbearing attitude all the time. He’s always waiting for the next terrible thing to happen and trying his best to shield everyone from what hasn’t happened yet. It’s admirable but sometimes I want to take him by the scruff of his neck and force him to watch me on a few jobs. I’d like him to witness true evil and then act accordingly.

“Neil,” Amelia pinches the bridge of her nose, “please mind your own business.”

“You are my business.” He retorts and she gives him a sad look, one filled with pity.

“I don’t need saving.” She says to him quietly, and his face falls.

I understand he feels like he let his sister Charlotte down. Her and Ivy were best friends and Charlotte was in love with her, going as far as to try and kill them both when that love was unrequited. Neil felt like he missed the signs of her downward spiral, and he blames himself, especially since he stopped blaming Ivy.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he shoots me a look and I roll my eyes.

“Even if I do,” she places her hand on his arm, “it won’t kill me.”

This is probably a conversation I should let them have on their own, but a part of me needed to hear Amelia say it, too. I am probably more than likely going to hurt her because she may ask me for more at some point, and I’m pretty much capped at how far I’ll take this.

“I will protect your sister with my life,” I tell Neil the only truth I have, and when he stares into my eyes, the anger in his starts to dissipate.

“I know.” He exhales and looks at Ivy, “your Uncle Emmett wasn’t lying when he said this family is borderline incestuous.”

“Truth.” she nods.

“Carmelo and Cameron are like this close,” I pinch my fingers together, “to sharing blood somewhere.”

“True again.” Ivy snorts, and Amelia chuckles.

“Get over the fact I’m boinking your sister, and let’s plan a bachelorette party.” I tell him as I’m drying my clean hands.

“Bachelor.” He corrects as his brows crash together.

“Sure,” I nod, “says you.”

Ivy is set off again, her palm hitting the table as she howls, and even Amelia has her hand covering the smile on her mouth.

“I’ve been putting up with this abuse for eight years now.” Neil mutters with a ghost of a smile on his face, “eight years of your fucking attitude.”

“He’s complaining like he’s got other friends,” I snicker, “I’m your only friend, fool. We’ll hit up the community center on Wednesday when they have crochet night, maybe Loretta will dance for you.”

Ivy slips off the chair she’s sitting on, and her ass hits the floor as her riotous laughing draws the elderly from the family room.

“Who’s Loretta?” Amelia asks.

“Loretta made Gabriel his baby blanket.” Uncle Travis says as he comes into the kitchen, “what’s so funny?” He looks at Ivy.

“Mmm Loretta,” I bite into my bottom lip, and Neil finally snorts.

“You’re disgusting.” Uncle Travis says with a small smile on his mouth.

“Loretta had nice tits back in the day, you can tell by how low they hang now,” my mother says as she comes into the kitchen with an opened bottle of wine, taking a swig.

“Ember.” Uncle Travis chastises.

“She wears this bright red lipstick, and it ends up all over her teeth,” Dad pops in, “but somehow Charlie always has smudges of it on his collar.”

“That cheating bastard!” Uncle Emmett exclaims, “Nancy may be a crotchety old cunt, but she doesn’t deserve that!”

“Loretta’s fine for eighty.” I nod.

Ivy sounds like she’s on the verge of passing out, her wheeze sounding like her chest is about to explode. “Please, please have the party at crochet night. I need videos.”

I’m sipping my coffee the next morning and watching the sunrise through our backdoor. This house is comfortable, it’s hard to imagine living anywhere else, but maybe it’s time I find a place of my own. Not that my family is always in my face here, more times than not, I am alone. We’re busy and the rare times we are all here is for family functions, like last night.

“Hey,” Dad yawns behind me. “You’re up early.”

“Haven’t slept yet,” I shrug. I don’t add on how much I have to do, or needing every waking hour, and on top of it all, plan a bachelor party. One that won’t end up with Ivy kicking me in the balls.

“Remember when you had that problem as a kid?” He pours himself a coffee. “We would drain your energy, you always had so much fucking energy.”

“We’d play football in the yard.” I nod.

“Want to toss a ball around?” I can hear the humour in his voice and chuckle.

“Nah.”

“Why don’t we hit up Shay’s gym? We can use her boxing ring and go a few rounds.” He suggests, and I look at him with a snort.

“You’re too old.”

His brow hits his hairline, and a slow smirk crosses his mouth, “you scared, son?”

He should know by now no form of taunting sways me, but I am curious to see how he’s kept himself in shape this long. My father and I have the same stature, same body build, and it’s been a while since we’ve thrown down.

“Alright.” I smirk back at him, “but if you throw out a hip, don’t cry to me.”

I kick down the stand for my Ducati and pull the helmet off my head. Dad will be another ten minutes at least; I was fucking flying this morning. It helps when your uncle is the chief of police in your town, all cops know to turn a blind eye.

I head inside the gym, and must say, the place looks different in the light of day, and without a gorgeous Amelia spread open under me. The place is empty though, save for a few people running the treadmills. It’s still early.

“Saxon?” Shay approaches with a smile on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for the old man to get here so I can whoop his ass.”

“I’d be careful with what you say,” she gives me a pointed look, “your father works out every day.”

He does? But he's nearing fifty, what if he has a heart attack?

“There’s a better look,” she snickers, “a little bit of fear never hurt anyone. Will you be using the ring?”

I don’t bother to correct her, I’m not worried about fighting my father, I’m worried he’s pushing himself too hard for his age. “Yeah.” I nod.

Five minutes later, my very fit, nearing fifty father steps into the gym. The few females in here this early all watch him with obvious appreciation. They’re lucky my mother isn’t here because Shay would need industrial cleaners to clear out all the blood.

“Do you need a warmup?” He begins bouncing on the balls of his feet and punches my arm a few times.

“No.” I shake my head slowly.

He walks toward the ring at the far corner of the gym. I’m pretty sure my mother fought a few times here too, starting when she was in high school. Dad pulls off his top and one of the girls on the bikes moans in a breathy sounding way. I shoot her a glare over my shoulder but she’s too busy ogling my dad to notice. So lucky Mom isn’t here. Not that Dad is paying them any mind, it’s like this happens to him all day, every day and he’s become accustomed. I’m telling Mom.

He gets in the ring, and I pull the hoodie over my head, leaving on my t-shirt. I don’t want the women in here to overheat, Shay could get sued.

I hop in the ring with him, and he begins to hop from foot to foot, looking very much like a better-looking Mike Tyson, and just as old.

“Dad, are you sure?” I ask as we pick up the large gloves from opposite corners.

“Saxon, are you sure?” He throws back, and I groan as I secure the gloves.

“You’re getting too old for this shit, Dad-” I turn around and my words are cut off by a sharp punch to the mouth.

“Do you have your mouth guard in?” He snickers as he jumps back, “we spent a lot of money on retainers for you to have those teeth fucked up today.”

I shake my head to clear the fog and grab the mouth guard up from the floor. I pop it in and turn, only to have the fucking glove get me again in the face. A loud oof leaves my mouth as I’m tossed back against the ropes. My head jars with the impact and I stare at my dad in complete shock.

“Can you fucking relax?” I snap at him over my mouth guard, the words all mumbled, “you can’t just win by cheap shots.”

“I thought it would be easier for you to walk out of here a loser that way,” he grins over his guard, “we can go toe to toe though.”

“Dad…” I groan, not really wanting to pound my dad’s face, no matter how gleefully he’s pounding mine.

“Your mother trained you, no?” He continues to grin, “you should be able to fight your old man no problem. Or did we raise a pussy?”

“What?” I snarl.

“C’mon kitty,” he continues to taunt, going as far as to make the noise people use to call cats.

It’s like a cloud of red-hot anger drops over my head and I fly forward, landing a punch to his jaw. Before he can even bring his face back around, I’m hitting him with a left. He stumbles back against the ropes and as I dive forward, he uses the momentum, flying at me at the same time. His fist hits my ribcage, and when I spin in time to block, his other fist hits my right jaw. I’m jarred backwards and rotate my back to him, my torso hitting the ropes.

What the fuck?

Before I can even recover, he’s hauling me off the ropes, and turning me around, slamming me with a few more body shots. I bend over to shield his blows when his fist slams my chin with an uppercut. My back hits the mat with a resounding thud, and I can hear my dad panting above me. When his head appears in my vision, he’s grinning down at me.

“Did we drain your energy?”

Cordelia

It’s been one week since Sonia’s attack and she’s been transferred off campus, rightfully so. The library has been dead every day and I’ve been leaving before the sunsets each night. I haven’t seen much of Amelia since what happened between us in the library, but she texts me every day. Her brother’s wedding is coming up and she’s the maid of honour, so a lot of her time has been studying for finals and planning a wedding.

I’ve been left alone to really think and all I’ve been thinking about is the very reason I came here to Canada—Toronto specifically. There’s a man here who can give me information about the parents who sacrificed their child to a cult and watched her be tortured each day. When I escaped the Canonites with Doctor Lancaster, my family was lost to me, and when I began to try and track them down, the path led me here.

Abraham Hinton is a wealthy hedge fund investor who still has an office in downtown Toronto, and he has something belonging more to me than him. Sometimes, members of the cult do bad things, like the men raping girls owned by Bruce, and sometimes those girls would become pregnant. Those babies were dumped off in seedy locations in well populated US cities. Mostly New York. But sometimes, married couples like my mother and father continued to procreate, obviously. Only, those babies weren’t allowed to stay in the order. The babies born inside the order must have the blood of Bruce, or else they’re dumped off.

It sounds weird, I was a baby when my parents forced me to become a Canonite and we were accepted, they couldn’t really get rid of babies born outside the order, who would join? No, only the children born inside that didn’t share Bruce’s DNA were disposed of. Thankfully, they weren’t killed, at least I don’t think they were.

Three months after we joined the Canonites, my mother gave birth to another girl, and even though I heard she fought to save her because she was impregnated before the order, she failed. My little sister, just thirteen months younger than me, was given up to an orphanage in New York. That was the only information in my possession, until I shacked up with the good doctor. He was the one who delivered all babies in the order, and I found his files. He had my mother’s name and the year she gave birth, and I kept the sheet of paper because it had the address of the place they dropped the newborn off at.

I felt guilty for so long, not knowing the life she had, and if it was any worse than mine. Thirteen months difference meant I got to stay near my parents while she had to leave, and be raised by strangers, not knowing if it saved her or not. Thoughts of her would run over me while I was going through torture at the hands of the Canonites, hoping and praying her life was better. Then, when I was finally clear of them all, my mission to find her became clear.

First, I found the orphanage where my sister was dropped off, it was long closed due to neglect, and my heart broke again for my little sister. The date it closed made her a little over six months old, but I found the agency who took most of the children in. An adoption agency well-known in the tri-state area. Love the Tots. I found a few documents for children born in the same month as my sister and even though there were a few, without knowing the exact date, I managed to narrow it down.

She was adopted by Abraham and Georgina Hinton and the only bit of information I could dig up about them was the husband’s investments here in Toronto. Everything else was locked up tight, which told me they had money. Knowing that, I really hope she ended up with a good life.

I’m standing in front of Hinton International, the skyscraper being at least fifty floors tall, and my heart is beating out a quick staccato. This could be it; I could finally find out exactly who my sister is, and maybe for once in my life, have a real family.

I head inside and find a lady sitting at the front desk, she’s in her late twenties I would assume and has about a pound of makeup on her face. She’s pretty though with her golden hair twisted up in a bun and with her light brown eyes looking at me quizzically.

“Hello, welcome to Hinton International. How may I help you?”

“Hi there,” I put on my widest smile, “I’m hoping to speak to Mr. Hinton?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Hinton are out of the country.” Her brows come together in thought, “is there something I can help you with?”

“Darn,” my finger taps my chin, “when will they return?”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume you don’t know the Hintons well?” She chuckles when I nod, “they don’t really come back here, save for once a year to check in on their daughter.”

My heart soars at the mention of a daughter and I can feel the relief swelling through me, I’ve found my sister.

“Does the daughter work here?” I try to keep the excitement out of my tone, “would I be able to speak to her?”

“Gosh no,” she chuckles again, “she doesn’t have much to do with the family.”

“Darn,” I repeat, feeling like I’m coming to a dead-end. I’m so close, I can feel it. “Do you have a contact for their daughter?”

“I really shouldn’t be giving that out,” she shakes her head and gives me a suspicious look, “you’re here to see the Hintons, right? I just told you the daughter isn’t close to them.”

“I’m here to speak to someone in the Hinton family,” I backpedal, “I’m a distant relative and I’ve come all the way from Idaho to meet them.”

“Idaho?” Her brows shoot up, “wow, didn’t know they had family in Idaho.”

“They don’t,” I adjust as the conversation continues, “I was adopted. They’re cousins, from my understanding. I’m on a search for my birth parents and believe they have information.”

“Oh,” she gives me a sad smile, “I was adopted as well, went searching for my mother at eighteen and found out she died not too long after I was born.”

“Oh,” I gasp, “I’m so sorry to hear that.” It’s true but this is a stroke of good luck.

“Okay,” she shrugs and starts typing into her computer, “I’ll give you the daughter’s contact information, but it didn’t come from me.” She gives me a pointed look.

“Okay.” I mime at zipping my lips, and she laughs.

She hands me a printed piece of paper and gives me a sad smile, “good luck.”

“Thank you.” I nod and walk out of the building. I’m dying to know what it says but don’t want her watching me for a reaction.

I get into my car and take a few deep breaths, unfolding the page, this is it.

Adrianna Greene is her name, and it shows her current address is in Whitsborough.

Could there be any relation to Saxon Greene from Whitsborough?