Please do not look at me when I bring this afternoon’s tea. I do not think I could bear it!
With love and sadness, Edna As she finished the letter, Olivia felt a tear roll down her cheek.
“I made you some toast,” her mother interrupted. Olivia hadn’t even noticed her come into the kitchen.
Olivia quickly wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “Thanks,” she murmured.
Her mom sat down opposite her and slid the plate of toast across to Olivia. She studied Olivia’s face. “So ...how are the movie plans coming along?” she asked.
“Good,” Olivia replied quietly.
Her mother nodded. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked gently.
Olivia felt a lump in her throat. “Nothing,” she said, looking down at the plate. Her mom reached over and took her hand.
Olivia fought the urge to cry. “I guess”—she gulped—“the family connection with Great-aunt Edna has made me think, you know, about my own biological parents.”
Her mom sighed and nodded. “It’s healthy to want to know about your birth parents, sweetheart,” she replied softly. “I only wish I had more to tell you about them.”
“I know,” Olivia said.
“I’d be happy to get the adoption file out again for you to look at,” her mom offered.
Olivia took a tissue from the box on the corner of the table and blew her nose. “There’s not much to look at,” she quavered, looking up at the ceiling tearily. “It just says that someone dropped me off at the adoption agency anonymously.”
“With the note that had your name and date of birth on it,” her mom added. Then she smiled and squeezed Olivia’s hand. “You know I’ve always loved your name.”
“Don’t forget the ring,” Olivia said, wiggling her finger and forcing a smile.
“And the ring,” her mom agreed, standing up and coming around the table to give Olivia a big hug. Olivia buried her face in her mom’s shoulder.
“I love you so much, sweetie,” her mom whispered, and Olivia found herself feeling a tiny bit better. Then her mom glanced at the clock over the stove. “The Mom Express is departing for school in fifteen minutes sharp,” she teased. “And you still haven’t done your hair.”
Olivia grinned again in spite of her tears.
“Why don’t you go finish getting ready, while I put away Edna’s things?” Mrs. Abbott suggested.
“Thanks, Mom,” Olivia said and padded upstairs to do her hair.
Twenty minutes later, Olivia was staring out of the car window as her mom drove her to school. Her mind continued to buzz with questions about her real parents: Who were they? Why’d they give us up? Were they in love, like Edna and the duke?
Two blocks from school, Olivia noticed a blackclad person walking on the sidewalk up ahead. Even from the back, she could tell it was Ivy.
“I’ll get out here,” Olivia blurted. She really wanted to talk to her sister, but there was no way she could risk her mom seeing Ivy up close in case she noticed the resemblance.
“Why?” her mom asked.
Olivia hesitated. “For the fresh air . . .” she tried.
Much to her relief, her mom pulled over without asking any more questions. Olivia hugged her good-bye and got out of the car. She waited for her mom to drive away and then shouted, “Ivy! Wait up!”
Ivy turned, her face set in a scowl, and kicked some dirt off her boot as she waited for Olivia to catch up.
“You don’t look too happy,” Olivia observed.
“I’m not,” Ivy replied flatly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I still don’t have a quote for Serena Star,” Ivy explained. “But don’t worry about me. What’s the matter with you?” Olivia looked at her quizzically, and Ivy said, “Just because you always look sunny doesn’t mean I can’t tell when you’re feeling cloudy.”
Olivia smiled, and she and her sister started walking together slowly.
“Camilla and I are doing a movie for media studies,” Olivia began.
“I saw the Beasts working on theirs.” Ivy nodded. “Apparently, Garrick’s going to make Charlotte Brown a star.”
“Yeah.” Olivia sighed. “Well, Camilla and I are doing ours on this relative of my mom’s who I never even knew about: her great-aunt Edna. She just died recently, and it turns out she left my mom her love letters, plus some other stuff. There’s a ruby and diamond necklace you’d love.”
“Really?” Ivy said, her eyes lighting up. “That sounds killer.”
“It is,” Olivia agreed.
“So what’s wrong?”
Olivia sighed. “Do you ever think about our real parents, Ivy?”
“Every time my father drives me crazy,” Ivy said, cracking a smile.
“I’m serious,” Olivia said. “All this stuff about Great-aunt Edna has really got me thinking— about our family and history and stuff. I mean, I love my mom and dad and I feel superlucky that they adopted me, but I wish so badly that we knew something, anything, about our biological parents. Who knows? Maybe we have grandparents somewhere, or aunts and uncles and cousins. We could have a whole big family we don’t even know about!”
“I thought about our parents a lot when we first found each other,” Ivy said. “I’m lucky that my dad’s seriously great and that now I have you. But I’d like to know more about where we came from.”
“Exactly,” Olivia agreed as they crossed the street in front of school. “I mean, who wrote the notes when they put us up for adoption?”
Ivy stopped in her tracks. “What notes?”
“You know,” Olivia clarified, “the piece of paper they left with the baby’s name and date of birth on it.”
“I didn’t get a note,” Ivy said. Then she murmured, “At least not that I know of.” She bit her lip thoughtfully as they resumed walking.
“So how did you find out about where you were born?” Olivia wondered aloud.
“My dad told me it was in the adoption file.” Ivy replied. “But he never said anything about a note.”
“Well, you should ask him. Serena Star doesn’t have to be the only person in Franklin Grove determined to discover the truth,” Olivia said.