As Mrs. Lee was driving me away in her black tesla, I looked outside the window, thinking about my theory. I thought about our similarities; we both had rough black hair and most importantly, different colored eyes. I suddenly noticed how quiet and awkward it was. I decided I would not make the first move and turned my head to look out the window again.
It turns out that Mrs. Lee was extraordinarily wealthy and lived in a big mansion. I had a sudden train of thought.
“Why is your name Mrs. Lee even though you don’t seem married?” I blurted out. She smiled slightly and said, “My husband and I divorced about 13 years ago, but I chose to still be called ‘Mrs.’”
“Oh,” I said, “Sorry.”
“It’s ok,” she said, not meeting my eyes.
I recalled that she had said 13 years ago, which was exactly how old I was. I was about to explore that idea further, but then a maid brought me ice cream, which distracted me. The maid showed me to my room. The walls were white, and the bed was queen-sized. There were no decorations on the walls; the only thing on the mattress was a bed sheet. I guessed Mrs. Lee intended to let me decorate my room alone. I tugged my luggage into my room and unpacked. I didn’t bring much, just some of my favorite pens and pencils and a box that contained a necklace the warden had said my parents left for me. I shoved it in the nightstand’s drawer and was pleased to see the drawer was able to lock.
As I went downstairs, I realized dinner was already ready. It was a rather big table for just two people, and I awkwardly sat down on a chair and started eating. As Mrs. Lee and I ate, I noticed a necklace hanging from her neck. It was the same as my necklace except for the pendant’s color. Her gem was pink, while mine was green.
“Where did you get that necklace?” I asked, curious.
She looked startled and answered, “My child and I each had one until I gave her up for adoption” “Come to think of it,” she said with a furrowed brow, “You kind of look like her”
“I have the same necklace,” I suddenly blurted out.
She looked tense.
“What color is your pendant?” Mrs. Lee asked.
“Green,” I replied, thinking even more that she was my real mom.
Mrs. Lee turned pale.
“Anastasia?” she asked.
“Yes?” I said, a little scared.
“I think I’m your real mother.”
I had my suspicions confirmed.
“I know Mrs. Lee,” I said, “I suspected you the moment I saw your eyes.”
Mrs. Lee smiled, “Just call me mom.”
It turns out that Mrs. Lee was extraordinarily wealthy and lived in a big mansion. I had a sudden train of thought.
“Why is your name Mrs. Lee even though you don’t seem married?” I blurted out. She smiled slightly and said, “My husband and I divorced about 13 years ago, but I chose to still be called ‘Mrs.’”
“Oh,” I said, “Sorry.”
“It’s ok,” she said, not meeting my eyes.
I recalled that she had said 13 years ago, which was exactly how old I was. I was about to explore that idea further, but then a maid brought me ice cream, which distracted me. The maid showed me to my room. The walls were white, and the bed was queen-sized. There were no decorations on the walls; the only thing on the mattress was a bed sheet. I guessed Mrs. Lee intended to let me decorate my room alone. I tugged my luggage into my room and unpacked. I didn’t bring much, just some of my favorite pens and pencils and a box that contained a necklace the warden had said my parents left for me. I shoved it in the nightstand’s drawer and was pleased to see the drawer was able to lock.
As I went downstairs, I realized dinner was already ready. It was a rather big table for just two people, and I awkwardly sat down on a chair and started eating. As Mrs. Lee and I ate, I noticed a necklace hanging from her neck. It was the same as my necklace except for the pendant’s color. Her gem was pink, while mine was green.
“Where did you get that necklace?” I asked, curious.
She looked startled and answered, “My child and I each had one until I gave her up for adoption” “Come to think of it,” she said with a furrowed brow, “You kind of look like her”
“I have the same necklace,” I suddenly blurted out.
She looked tense.
“What color is your pendant?” Mrs. Lee asked.
“Green,” I replied, thinking even more that she was my real mom.
Mrs. Lee turned pale.
“Anastasia?” she asked.
“Yes?” I said, a little scared.
“I think I’m your real mother.”
I had my suspicions confirmed.
“I know Mrs. Lee,” I said, “I suspected you the moment I saw your eyes.”
Mrs. Lee smiled, “Just call me mom.”