The Day I Learned I Wasn't Adopted

"Are you sure that you want to officially change your pack affiliation?"

I pressed my phone to my ear and listened to the rising laughter coming from the house. My voice was so eerily calm that it sounded unfamiliar even to my own ears.

"Yes."

"Be quick about it then. You'll depart in three days. I've already sent the pass to you."

Three days. There wasn't much time left.

I glanced at the tightly closed door. I could still hear laughter coming from within the house. My sister Annie Moon's voice was the loudest. She had always been the center of the family.

The Frostmoon pack's representative's voice echoed from the receiver. "Do you have a lot of luggage? Do we need to contact a logistics company?"

I looked into the house as I gripped my phone. Their smiles hadn't faded in the slightest.

"No. I only have one bag," I answered.

"Alright then. Contact the territory representative, Damien Woodworth, when you arrive. He'll pick you up."

After hanging up, I crouched down and sat on the steps outside the door for three minutes. My heart was racing, but not out of panic. Instead, I felt a burning sensation spread through me as if I had been dunked in hot water on an extremely cold day.

15 years. How good could an eight-year-old pup's critical thinking skills be?

I believed Annie when she told me that I was adopted and stopped having any doubts when Mom and Dad nodded and verified her words.

From that day on, I always sat at the very edge of the table during family get-togethers, terrified that I would take up space that didn't belong to me.

I could hear Mom laughing on the other side of the door. She was probably laughing because of how well the "joke" had paid off.

The door suddenly swung open. My aunt, Lisa Moon, strode out of the house with a shawl draped around her shoulders and nearly ran into me as I sat in the shadows.

"Anna? When did you get back?" she asked.

I suppressed the turbulent emotions in my eyes and slowly rose to my feet.

"I just got back," I said, sweeping the nonexistent dust from my pants.

Aunt Lisa enthusiastically grabbed my arm and tugged me into the house. "Hurry and come inside. It's Annie's birthday today. Your mother specially made her favorite red wine stewed beef."

Annie's birthday was September 21st. Meanwhile, my birthday was September 16th. It was five days ago, but no one mentioned it.

The living room had been decorated to resemble a party. It was obvious that it had been done with love. The color of the balloons was Annie's favorite dark blue. The words, "Happy 23rd Birthday, Annie", were written on the birthday cake.

Mom was bustling about in the kitchen in an apron that was stained with grease. Her eyes were crinkled into crescents.

Dad sat on the couch and chatted with Uncle Aaron. The television was switched on, but no one was paying attention to it.

Annie lounged on the other end of the couch and scrolled through her phone. She lifted her chin slightly when she noticed me step through the door.

"Why are you back so early?" she asked. "I thought you were on patrol since it's the Harvest Celebration. I thought that you'd be back very late."

"Patrol ended early today," I answered.

Mom hollered for me from the kitchen. "Dinner is ready, Anna. Can you tidy up the fireplace?"

Instead of telling me to eat, she told me to clean the fireplace first.

Nine wolves squeezed around the dining table. I had counted only eight chairs, so I grabbed a foldable stool for my own seat.

Annie was already unwrapping her presents. Aunt Lisa had given her a silk scarf, while Mom and Dad had given her a watch. The word "Annie" was engraved on the dial.

"This must have been so expensive, Dad," Annie exclaimed as she lifted the watch with sparkling eyes.

A rare smile appeared on Dad's face. "It was just around 2,000 dollars. It was worth it."

I had wired 1,600 dollars to the family last month. It was likely that the money had been used to purchase the watch and its glimmering bracelet.

"Did you prepare a gift for Annie, Anna?" Aunt Lisa asked, smiling.

Everyone turned to look at me.

I pulled out the money that I had prepared beforehand and offered it to Annie, saying, "400 dollars. You can buy whatever you want."

Annie glanced at the stack of money before carelessly placing it on the table as if she was handling a used tissue. "Alright. Thanks."

Mom frowned. She lowered her voice and hissed, "You're only giving her 400 dollars? Annie treats you so well. You're being too petty."

My hands froze as I gripped my knife and fork.

Treats me well? Was telling me that I was adopted when I was eight considered treating me well? Or was it when she didn't correct her lie for the last 15 years and treated me as a maid?

I swallowed the beef in my mouth and didn't say a single word.

Laughter continued to resound around the table, reminiscent of a family sitcom that they had rehearsed countless times. Everyone had their set roles and lines.

My role was to serve the dishes, refill their plates, and clean up the mess. My only line was, "Okay."