Chapter 4: The First Clues
Yelena stood frozen in the doorway, her heart pounding as she stared at the man in front of her. His words echoed in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine. Finally decided to come home. What did that mean? Did he know who she was? Had he been expecting her?
Before she could ask, the woman who had answered the door stepped forward, her expression softening. “Come in, child,” she said, gesturing for Yelena to enter. “You must be tired from your journey.”
Yelena hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside. The house was small and modest, but it was warm and welcoming, with a faint scent of herbs and wood smoke in the air. The woman led her to a chair by the fireplace and motioned for her to sit.
“I’m Martha,” the woman said, her voice gentle. “And this is Ethan. He’s… well, he’s your brother.”
Yelena’s eyes widened as she looked at Ethan, who was still standing by the door, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on her. He didn’t look much older than her, but there was a hardness in his eyes that suggested he had seen more than his share of hardship.
“My brother?” Yelena repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan nodded, his expression unreadable. “Half-brother, technically,” he said. “We share the same father. But I guess that makes us family, doesn’t it?”
Yelena’s mind was reeling. She had come to Phurg expecting to find her parents, not a brother she never knew existed. But before she could process this new information, Martha spoke again.
“Your father… he’s not here,” Martha said, her voice tinged with sadness. “He passed away a few years ago. But he always hoped you’d come back one day.”
Yelena felt a lump form in her throat. She had never known her real father, and now she never would. But there was something in Martha’s words that gave her hope. Her father had wanted her to come home. He had cared about her, even if he hadn’t been able to be there for her.
“What about my mother?” Yelena asked, her voice trembling.
Martha and Ethan exchanged a glance, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Ethan sighed and stepped forward, pulling up a chair to sit across from Yelena.
“Your mother… she’s not here either,” he said, his voice low. “She left Phurg a long time ago, not long after you were born. No one knows where she went.”
Yelena’s heart sank. She had come to Phurg hoping to find answers, but so far, all she had found were more questions.
“But why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why did she leave? And why did my father give me up?”
Ethan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “It’s complicated,” he said. “Our father… he wasn’t a perfect man. He made mistakes. But he loved you, Yelena. He always regretted giving you up. He just didn’t have a choice.”
Yelena frowned, her mind racing. “What do you mean, he didn’t have a choice?”
Ethan hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn photograph. He handed it to Yelena, and she took it with trembling hands.
The photo was old and faded, but she could still make out the image of a man and a woman standing together, their arms around each other. The man was tall and handsome, with sharp features and a confident smile. The woman was beautiful, with long dark hair and a gentle expression.
“That’s our father,” Ethan said, pointing to the man. “And that’s your mother.”
Yelena stared at the photo, her heart aching. She had never seen her mother before, and now, looking at her face, she felt a strange mix of emotions—longing, sadness, and a faint glimmer of hope.
“What happened to them?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Like I said, it’s complicated. But the short version is that our father got caught up in something dangerous. He made some powerful enemies, and he thought the only way to protect you was to send you away.”
Yelena’s eyes widened. “Enemies? What kind of enemies?”
Ethan’s expression darkened, and he glanced at Martha, who nodded slightly, as if giving him permission to continue.
“Our father… he wasn’t just a simple man,” Ethan said. “He was involved in things—dangerous things. He had connections to people who didn’t take kindly to betrayal. When he realized he was in over his head, he sent you away to keep you safe.”
Yelena’s mind was spinning. Her father had been involved in something dangerous? And he had sent her away to protect her? It was almost too much to process.
“But why didn’t he come back for me?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Ethan’s expression softened, and for the first time, Yelena saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes. “He wanted to,” he said. “But by the time he was ready, it was too late. The Roberts family had already taken you in, and he thought it was better to let you have a normal life.”
Yelena felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. All these years, she had thought she was unwanted, abandoned. But the truth was far more complicated—and far more heartbreaking.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, clutching the photo tightly in her hands.
Ethan reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said. “Just know that you’re not alone anymore. You’re family, Yelena. And we’re going to figure this out together.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, Yelena felt a glimmer of hope. She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew one thing for certain—she was finally home.