EuropeNovelChapter 5
Both of them were clearly flustered-almost as if their brains had
short-circuited but they still hurried to invite Alessia inside. They set a glass of warm water in front of her;
though they were the hosts, they seemed oddly out of place in their own home.
“Aren’t you heading out?” Alessia asked.
“I called work and asked for the day off,” Zachary replied quietly, answering her question without hesitation.
“You're not picking up your prescription today?”
“l can go tomorrow. It's not urgent.”
Alessia nodded slightly, and the three of them fell silent.
“Don’t you have anything you want to ask?” Noticing Karen fidgeting nervously with her hands, Alessia was the
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtfirst to break the awkward quiet.
“I spoke to Dad and the others. They're on their way back,” Karen said softly.
“Um... have you eaten yet?” Karen wiped her hands on her apron, her face a mixture of unease and
embarrassment. “We don’t have much in the fridge, but if you tellwhat you like, I'll go out and get it.”
“Just callLessie-it's fine, I'm not picky,” Alessia replied, picking up her glass and taking a sip of water. As she
did, she glanced around the small house.
It was a modest three-bedroom, one-living-room place-not particularly spacious. The paint on the walls was
peeling and stained in places, but it was clear the owners took care of it; everything was tidy and clean.
A sound at the door pulled Alessia from her thoughts. She and the others all turned to look as the front door
opened. The first to enter was a middle-aged man in a suit, his sharp features framed by a furrowed brow-he
couldn't hide his worry.
Next ca man about Zachary’s height, his demeanor calm and reserved, dressed simply in jeans and a white
t-shirt.
Last was an older man with white hair, bearing a striking resemblance to Zachary, though his eyes were sharper
and his expression impatient. A guitar case hung over his shoulder.
The newcomers lined up by the door, making the already-cramped living room feel even smaller. At spoint,
Zachary had cout of the bedroom, trailed by a
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boy of seven or eight.
The boy kept his head down, lips pressed tightly together, one hand gripping Zachary’s sleeve.
“Hello, I'm... Alessia. I'm your biological daughter. If you don’t believe me, we can do a DNA test.” Truthfully,
there was no need; anyone could tell at a glance that she belonged to this family-the resemblance was
unmistakable.
“I understand the situation. I'm your father, Brendan Morton,” the man in the suit said.
It should have been a touching family reunion, but it felt more like a meeting between strangers, or maybe
business partners meeting for the first time.
“Hi, I'm the eldest, Ethan Morton,” the man in jeans said, studying Alessia with a slight frown, as if puzzling
something out.
“I'm your second brother, Zachary, and this is my twin-your third brother, Liam Morton. And that’s the youngest,
Ivan Morton.” Zachary Morton introduced everyone in turn, pointing to the little boy still clinging to his sleeve.
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