Chapter Forty-Eight Charlotte
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHARLOTTE
I belong here
H ARRISON ’ S BIRTHDAY FALLS ON AN UNUSUALLY WARM S ATURDAY IN mid-March. Somehow, the temperature rises ten degrees and all the snow melts three days before he arrives, as if the weather knows I desperately need a nice, sunny weekend with my brother.
But there’s no sunshine in Harrison’s eyes when he steps out of the airport toward the pickup area. I drove all the way to Logan Airport to collect him, and he barely gives me a smile.
His shoulders are hunched against the cold, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn-out jacket. He doesn’t look like someone who’s here to celebrate a birthday.
“Hi,” I say, trying to keep my voice light as I greet him with a hug. He stiffens slightly before giving in, wrapping his arms around me in a way that feels both familiar and distant. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“How was the flight?”
“Shitty.”
Awesome. This is off to a super fun start.
“So what’s the plan?” he asks once we’re in the front seat of my car.
I move the gearshift into drive. “I thought we would spend a couple hours outdoors. You could stretch your legs after that long flight, and I can breathe some real air. I’ve been locked up in the engineering lab all week,” I say ruefully.
“Sure. Sounds good.”
“Okay, great. There’s this trail I thought you’d like. It follows the river and has the prettiest lookouts.”
He nods, but the excitement I hoped to see isn’t there. We drive mostly in silence. I keep sneaking glances at him, searching for any sign that today might be different. That we might actually connect. But all I see is the same guarded expression he’s had since we first met.
This trail system is one of my favorites, located outside the city. I park in the free lot at the head of the trail.
“Ready?” I chirp at my dour-faced companion.
Harrison sighs, but he gets out of the car, shoving his hands into his pockets again as we start down the path.
The trees are bare, their branches reaching out like skeletons against the clear sky. It’s peaceful here, the kind of place where you can hear yourself think. I hope it’ll help us talk.
I hike my backpack higher on my shoulders and turn to smile at my brother. He doesn’t smile back.
The air on the trail smells like pine and earth, the pale sun warming our backs. I’ve been in the lab too much lately, and the clear, open sky feels like a gift today. The river current looks vicious, though, and I’m careful with my footing when we near a slope that’s still covered in some winter frost. I don’t want either of us slipping and tumbling into the water below.
I sneak a glance at Harrison. He’s quiet, staring ahead, barely reacting to the beauty around us. I try to fill the silence, chatting about whatever comes to mind.
“So how’s work going? You said you had a big project launching this week, right?”
“It’s fine,” he mutters, kicking a pebble along the trail.
Okay, then. I dig for more, hoping to get him talking. “Do you like your clients? Are they the picky kind or just let you do your thing?”
He shrugs. “It’s whatever.”
This is like pulling teeth. I let the silence stretch out, hoping he’ll open up if I give him space. But it drags on, thick and awkward, as we round a bend in the trail. Finally, I stop, turning to face him.
“Are you all right? You seem off.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to shrug me off again, but then his shoulders drop. “I’ve had a shitty week,” he admits.
“What happened?”
“My adoptive dad,” he starts, then strains his features as if the words are hard to get out. “He got arrested for drunk driving this week.”
I blink, taken aback. “Oh my God. Was anyone hurt?”
“No. Thankfully. Totaled his truck, but he hit a tree, not another car. There was this whole thing at my grandparents’ house. They confronted him about it, and it turned into a big fight. He stormed out, drunk again, of course. It’s been a mess.”
I don’t know what to say at first. The wind stirs around us, the heaviness of his emotions settling in the air.
“I’m so sorry. That sounds awful.”
“It is. I don’t even know how to deal with it. I hate him, Hae. Like, I loathe that man.”
“That’s a lot to handle. Have you talked to anyone about it? A therapist? Friend?”
He shakes his head, kicking at the ground again. “Not really. What’s the point? Nothing’s gonna change.”
I take a breath, trying to think of something comforting to say. “I know it feels hopeless, but you don’t have to carry this by yourself. I’m here, okay? You can talk to me. Anytime.”
“Thanks.” He sounds noncommittal.
We start walking again, the path winding through a patch of trees, and I wish there were more I could do to help him. I wanted today to be about celebrating him, but he’s clearly not in a celebratory mood.
I think about the gift tucked in my backpack and wonder if maybe it’ll help. It’s not much, but it’s something.
I nudge him gently with my elbow. “Hey, I know it’s been a rough week, but it is your birthday, and I got you a present.”
He glances at me, the corners of his mouth twitching, but it’s not quite a smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
I spot a bench in the distance, tucked on the edge of the path overlooking the river, and guide him toward it. As he sits, I pull my backpack into my lap to unzip it, then reach inside. My hand emerges with the small tissue-paper-wrapped bundle, which I give to Harrison.
“I didn’t get you a card,” I say sheepishly. “I’m bad at writing in cards.”
That earns me a genuine smile. “Me too. I never know what to write.”
After a beat of hesitation, he peels off the piece of tape keeping the tissue paper together. His brow furrows when he sees what’s inside.
“Is this…” He lifts his gaze to mine, his throat dipping as he swallows. “Tokki.”
I’m caught in a weird state of nostalgia and nerves as I watch him stroke the stuffed animal’s soft, floppy ears, the sun catching its faded gray fur. Tiger AKA Tokki is worn after years in my possession.
“I’ve had him for twenty-one years,” I say, offering a tentative smile. “I thought maybe you’d like to have him back for a while. Take over babysitting duties.”
Harrison’s expression softens, and for the first time today, I feel like we’re connecting. Like maybe we can build something from this, from a shared memory and the fact that we found each other after all these years.
But then the darkness creeps back in. His face hardens, and he shoves Tokki back at me. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“I just thought—”
“You thought what? That this would fix everything?” He glares at me. “You think a stupid stuffed animal is gonna make up for the fact that you got adopted by a family that actually gave a shit, while I got stuck with that monster?”
“Harrison, no, that’s not what I—”
“He beat me, Hae. He burned me with cigarettes. Did you know that? And while he was doing that, you were living the good life with your perfect fucking family. I didn’t get to grow up in some cozy little home. I got stuck with an abusive drunk who treated me like garbage. And now you want to give me this stupid bunny like it’s supposed to make everything better? Like it erases the fact that I got left behind?”
His words slam into me like a punch to the throat. I stumble to my feet, stunned, my chest tightening with guilt.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I hoped it might mean something to you. To have something from before we—”
“From before we were separated? From before you got to live happily ever after and I got locked in closets for hours when I was being disobedient?”
My heart aches. “I know it wasn’t fair. I know you went through things I can’t even imagine. But I didn’t choose this. I didn’t ask to be adopted without you.”
“No, you just got lucky. You got everything. And I got nothing. And every time I look at you, it reminds me of how fucked-up my life has been compared to yours. So don’t stand there and act like you understand, because you don’t.”
Tears prick my eyes. “You’re right. I don’t understand. But I’m trying. I want to understand.”
He shakes his head. “It’s too late for that, Charlotte.”
His words crush all the hope I had that this gift might help bridge the gap between us. Instead, it’s only widened the divide.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, my heart breaking for him. “I wish I could change it, but—”
“But you can’t,” he snaps. “And don’t give me that bullshit about how you think your parents didn’t know I existed. You know you don’t believe that. Otherwise, you would’ve told them about me already. But you’re stalling because you’re scared to hear the truth.”
I flinch as if he’d struck me. “That’s not true,” I protest.
“Stop lying to yourself. They didn’t want me. They only wanted you.”
I feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, attempting to leak out. “You’re wrong. They would have—”
“Fuck this,” he interrupts. Cold and final. “I should’ve never answered your message. I don’t want you in my life, and I sure as hell don’t want these dumb memories.”
Before I can react, he snatches Tiger off the bench and marches toward the wooden railing separating us from the river below. He winds his arm back, then hurls the bunny into the water. I watch in horror as it floats away.
The one tangible connection to my past slipping out of reach.
“No!” I cry out, running to the edge, but it’s too late. Tiger is gone, carried away by the current. I spin back to Harrison, my heart shattering to pieces. “Why did you do that? That was all we had left!”
“Because it doesn’t mean anything. None of this means anything.” His face is devoid of emotion. “I’ll wait for you at the car.”
He turns and walks away, and my tears finally burst free, spilling down my cheeks as I watch him disappear around the bend.
I want to hurry after him, to tell him he’s wrong, that we can fix this, that we can still have something. But I can’t move. I can’t breathe. The pain is too much.
And as I stand there, alone by the river, I realize that I’ve lost him all over again.
Two hours.
I drive two hours to see them.
I could’ve gone back to Delta Pi after I dropped Harrison off at his hotel. Gone home and talked to Faith. Or to Hastings, where the boys would be happy to comfort me.
But I don’t want their comfort.
I want my mom and dad.
It’s hard to drive with a sheen of tears in my eyes, but somehow, I make it to Hamden in one piece. I pull into the driveway and don’t even bother turning off the engine; I just jump out, my feet pounding against the stone path as I hurry to the front door. My hands tremble as I twist the knob. It’s locked. And my stupid keys are in my stupid car, so I start knocking, each frenzied rap echoing my frantic heartbeat.
The door swings open to reveal my mother, her expression shifting from confusion to alarm as she takes in my tear-streaked face.
“Oh, sweetheart!” she gasps, pulling me into her arms without hesitation.
I bury my face in her shoulder, the familiar scent of her lilac perfume bringing a flood of comfort amid the chaos in my heart.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
“He threw him in the river!” I sob, my voice muffled against her soft white sweater. “He threw Tiger into the river!”
“What? Who?” she frets, her worry deepening as she wraps one arm around me and ushers me into the house.
Inside, she leads me into the living room, where I collapse onto the couch, still trembling from the intensity of my emotions.
“I found my brother.”
The confession flies out before I can stop it.
Mom doesn’t understand, though. “Oliver?”
“No. My biological brother. I found him, and I thought…I thought it would be okay. But he threw Tiger away. It was all I had left from before. From Korea. The only piece of my old life!”
“Honey. You need to slow down. And maybe start from the beginning. You found your brother?” she prompts, urging me to focus.
I take a shaky breath. “Yes. I found him on a DNA site. I was scared to tell you guys because I thought you would be angry or feel betrayed.”
Fresh tears spill down my cheeks.
“Anna? What’s going on?” My father’s voice sounds from the doorway.
I glance up at him, and when he sees me sitting there, concern floods his eyes.
“Peanut, what are you doing home?”
“Ed, come sit down,” Mom says. “Charlotte just told me she signed up for an ancestry site to track down her biological relatives. She discovered she has a brother.”
His expression goes serious. “Oh. I see.”
“Are you mad?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“What? I could never be angry at you for wanting to learn about your heritage,” he says, taking a seat next to me. “I wish you’d told us about this earlier. We would’ve supported you every step of the way.”
“Really?”
“Of course. We always encouraged you to learn everything you could about where you came from,” he reminds me.
“When you turned eighteen, your dad and I discussed suggesting you sign up for a site like that,” Mom admits, “but you’ve always been so resistant when it comes to anything related to Korea. I’m glad to hear you’re open to it now.”
I look between them, my heart clenching. “Why didn’t you adopt him too?”
That startles both my parents.
“Charlotte,” Mom says firmly. “We had no idea you had a sibling. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it now. The orphanage didn’t tell us. We thought you were the only child.”
“Why wouldn’t they tell you?” I choke out. “They could have saved him from everything he went through.”
“I don’t know.” Her voice softens. “Even your own adoption paperwork was a bit of a mess. The agency we worked with constantly complained how disorganized the Seoul agency was. But to neglect to mention a sibling …” She shakes her head. “I’m stunned.”
On my other side, Dad squeezes my hand. “I wish we had known, peanut. We would’ve been a family of six rather than five. But nobody can change the past. What matters now is the present. And in the present, in this moment, you are our daughter, and our daughter is hurting.”
Before I can stop them, a slew of disjointed questions leaves my mouth. “But what if I’m not enough? What if he needs more from you than I do? What if you regret adopting me?”
Mom shakes her head again. Vehemently. “You are always enough for us. Why would you ever think otherwise?”
“Because I’m not perfect. I want to be perfect for you,” I blurt out, my insecurities bubbling to the surface. “I thought if I just tried hard enough, if I showed you how smart and accomplished and capable I am, maybe I would be worth it.”
Shocked, Dad pulls me into a hug, his arms strong and reassuring. “You don’t have to be perfect, peanut. We love you for who you are, not who you think you should be.”
“I messed everything up,” I moan. “I got in a fight with Harrison, and now he hates me. He threw Tiger in the river—the stuffed bunny he gave me when I was a baby. It was the only thing I had from before you adopted me.”
Dad looks upset on my behalf. “Oh, kiddo. I’m sorry. That must have been painful for you.”
I can barely see through the tears obscuring my vision. “It was. And now I’m scared I’ll lose him and that I’ll lose you too. I kept this from you for months. I’ve been lying for months. Lying by omission, but still.”
“Sweetheart,” Mom says, “there’s nothing you could ever do that would change how much we love you. Same goes for Oliver and Ava.”
“But I’m not like Ava,” I sob. “I’m not your real daughter.”
“Charlotte!” She raises her voice, but not in anger. With deep, unwavering conviction. “You are our real daughter. You always have been. We chose you, and we will always choose you.”
I bite my lip. Hard. “But sometimes I feel different. Like I don’t really fit in. Ava and Oliver, you have a bond with them that I’ll never have. You look like them. They belong.”
“You belong too,” she insists. “You’re just as much a part of this family as your brother and sister are. Blood doesn’t make a family—love does. And we love you more than anything in this world. We’re so proud of you, and nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever make us stop loving you.”
I cling to them, my heart breaking and mending all at once. A law of contradiction.
My tears flow even harder, but they’re different now. They aren’t tears of fear but relief. I bury my face in my father’s chest again, Mom’s arms still around me, and I allow myself to feel the security of their presence.
I feel safe here.
I belong here.
Straightening up, I inhale a deep breath, willing the tears to subside. “I wish I never gave Tiger to him. It felt like losing my childhood all over again.”
Dad brushes hair off my forehead. “You haven’t lost anything. That stuffed animal, no matter where it is, will always be a part of your story.”
“Come on. Why don’t we go and make some tea?” Mom suggests, wiping the tears off my cheeks with her thumbs. “You can tell us everything you found out about this brother, talk us through it. We’ll get through this together. Okay?”
I sag into her touch, smiling. “Okay.”