Time to Spread My Wings

After being missing for 18 years, Mom and Dad finally found me. Jillian Swain, the fake heiress, crumples to the floor and starts sobbing.

"Goodbye, Mom and Dad. Thanks for taking care of me all these years. But now that Wanda is home, I'm sure you don't have any use for me anymore."

Mom and Dad hug her, completely heartbroken. "Sweetheart, don't talk like that! You're our only real daughter, now and always!"

Even Harvey Schumer, the guy I was promised to as a kid, declares his love for her. "Forget who you really are. You're the only one I love."

They're all tripping over each other to fuss over Jillian. They even throw a birthday celebration for her dog while I'm barely hanging on after a car crash.

So I pack up my things, accept the space agency's offer, and slip away into a five-year confidential satellite research project.

But the whole family freaks out the second I'm gone, turning the country upside down, searching for me.

The day I got out of the hospital after the car crash, I signed a confidentiality agreement for the research program. A space agency staff member grabbed my hand excitedly and said, "Welcome aboard.

"And I can't stress this enough—this research is classified, so not a word to anyone. You'll be totally off the grid for the five years you're involved."

He gave me three days to say goodbye to my family. I gave him a faint smile and said, "I'm an orphan. There's nobody to say goodbye to."

I dealt with the discharge paperwork by myself, and when I finally got home, Mom and Dad were glaring at me with grim looks.

Mom clenched her jaw, her voice tight with fury. "Wanda! Where the hell have you been for three months without so much as coming home?

"Jilly stayed up half the night waiting for you to start the celebration, and you didn't even bother to show up. Do you have any clue how disappointed she was?"

Dad's stare was freezing, his voice flat and cold. "Looks like she's gotten too full of herself to listen to us anymore. If that's how it is, she can pack her things and leave sooner rather than later."

Three months ago, I was in a car crash and was barely hanging on, but when the hospital called my family, all they heard was the busy tone.

They didn't give a damn if I made it or not. Yet now they had the audacity to guilt-trip me for skipping Jillian's dog's birthday.

I just didn't get it. I was their real daughter. So why did they act like I meant less to them than some adopted daughter?

I only had a few days left before leaving, so I wasn't about to start a fight. I just muttered, "I didn't see the message. I was busy."

Dad slammed his hand on the table, ready to blow up, until Jillian Swain floated down the stairs in her high-end outfit. Mom and Dad had gotten it for her.

She put on this delicate, understanding face and said, "Mom, Dad, Wanda's probably swamped with her studies. She is working on her Ph.D.

"You know how intense research can be. I was only throwing a small thing for my pet's birthday. It's not like it's a huge deal."

Dad snorted dismissively. "Ph.D.? If she can't even figure out that family comes first, what's the damn point? She should just quit now!"

I chuckled quietly but kept my mouth shut. I never made it back because Jillian had someone run me down at the campus entrance. The driver took off right away, and I passed out on the spot.

Someone rushed me to the hospital, and by the time I woke up, three months had gone by. Jillian just couldn't stand the idea of me being at every gathering with Mom and Dad.

"Just put up with me a little longer. I'll be out of your hair in a few days anyway," I said.

Mom stopped dead, then scowled. "Where else would you go?"

She was sure I had nowhere to turn. And why wouldn't she think that? Before they took me back home, I'd been stuck in that shabby, run-down orphanage.

Jillian's lips twisted into a smug smile, but her expression was all fake misery by the time she settled in beside Mom and Dad.

"Wanda probably doesn't want to be anywhere I am. I shouldn't be taking up her space. Maybe I should go."

Then, whether on purpose or not, she tilted just enough for the diamond necklace around her throat to glint under the light, its blinding sparkle proving it wasn't some cheap trinket.

It was Mom's favorite piece of jewelry. When I was little, before I went missing, she used to tell me, "Wanda, this is our family heirloom. One day, when you're older, it'll be yours."

And now? It was dangling from Jillian's neck.