17 Last Times

⤹32❁ Family, oh family.

Hi! I know it's been a while. So much has happened that I wouldn't even be able to write it all down. I hope you're okay! Here's another chapter! I hope you enjoy it!

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The rest of the evening went well. Nathan and I laughed a lot, ate a lot and enjoyed each other's company like it was the first time we went out on a date. Then we returned to our dorms, and then. . . everything changed.

"I can't believe you and Will are going for coffee," I say as we enter the building, ready to head towards our rooms.

Nathan cocks an annoyed brow. "I'm only doing it to see if he really wants to help, or whether it's just a part of some fucked up, mischievous plan of his."

I think back to every cunning thing that Will has ever done in the past. "Fair," I mutter in response, which makes a tiny smile appear on Nathan's lips.

"Enough of Reyman," he states, authoritative. "Tell me more about your writing."

I furrow my brows, confused. "What about it?"

"Well, for starters, it's great. I loved the poem you recited tonight. I really think you should start putting them together and make them into a book, or maybe try something different and write a novel?" He gives me an encouraging look. "You're amazing. It'd be a shame to see your gift go to waste."

"I don't think I can do it in all honesty. I struggled enough to write this poem, let alone a whole novel," I murmur, trudging up the stairs.

Nathan shoots me a dubious look. "That's because this poem was about your parents. The novel can be about anyone. About anything. Doesn't it make it easier? The absolute freedom of choice?"

I ponder briefly. I can't argue with his words so I just let out a quiet sound of agreement. It makes him smile.

At last, we reach the desired floor and amble towards my dorm, just to realize that someone has already beat us to it.

I stare at him, bewildered and concerned, and so does Nathan. Then we look at each other, striving to understand why he's standing in front of my room, doing absolutely nothing. He's just glaring at the door, as if he was having a telepathic disagreement about whether he should first knock.

"Excuse me? Ambrose?" I try to catch his attention.

As if woken from a trance, his body jerks slightly and then his eyes turn to us. He does not look happy.

"Can we help you?" I ask, tentative, as I take slow steps towards my dorm.

His chest moves up and down in an aggravated manner. Then he drags his sight back to the door, giving it one last look of annoyed ponder.

"Are you looking for Rayna? Or did you come to see me?" I fire another question, hopeful he'll finally respond to one. I can feel Nathan's hand wrap around my arm protectively. His eyes withhold the same message. Be careful.

Now Ambrose is staring directly at me, his face inscrutable. "Why you?"

Part of me is relieved to hear him speak, which he does very rarely in general, but the other part gets confused by his response. "Why would I be the person you're looking for?" I quizz, utterly lost.

"No," he gushes quickly, angrily. It sounds as though someone stomped firmly on the ground. It makes me twitch. "Why you?" he repeats more urgently. "Why did they keep you and not her?"

My mind is a mess. "Who did what, keep me where, her what?" I blabber meaninglessly.

Nathan stares at Ambrose, attentive but cautious.

Ambrose balls his hands into fists. His anger peaks. "Your parents. Why did they keep you?"

"I am so confused," I tell him, feeling nauseous but also irritated by the fact some taciturn-stranger-boy dared to mention my dead parents.

He scoffs, derisive. "Of course you are, because of course they must've never told you, I presume."

"You mean my parents? What haven't they told me?" I ask, now downright curious but also nervous. Could my parents have kept a secret from me? If yes, what is it? And how bad is it?

Ambrose peers at me for a very long minute, as if contemplating whether he should share his knowledge with me now, or torture me for a bit longer. "Did you know you weren't their only child?" he finally discloses, making my heart stop.

I absorb the snippet. My mind races like a stallion. The sheer idea that I could have siblings causes my breath to stagger. I look over at Nathan. He's looking back at me, equally stunned.

My eyes fall back on Ambrose. "Before I even ask any further questions–" I raise my hand in a stop sign, "–how exactly do you know my parents and why would I believe you? Why do you even have this information, considering any of what you've just said is true?"

He stares back at me in an equally stubborn and defensive way. "Because as her friend, the closest person to her, I had to find out the truth."

My mind boggles. "And what? Didn't you tell her? Is this why you are confronting me about it instead of her?" My anger escalates.

"Oh, trust me. I did tell her. But the moment she found out about your existence, the fact that your parents discarded her like she was nothing but then they had you and decided to keep you, she didn't want to reach out anymore."

I bite the inside of my cheek, unsure whether to believe him. "You've got no proof," I spit, confident.

He lets out a quiet huff and reaches into the pocket of his jeans. Then he holds out a neatly folded piece of paper. "Here. A copy of her birth certificate."

My eyebrows scrunch together. I look over at Nathan, terrified, in the need of reassurance as to whether I should take the document from Ambrose's hand. Nathan shrugs his shoulders, letting me know it's solely my decision however, he seems just as curious as I am.

I snap the paper out of Ambrose's hand and frantically unfold it. My eyes quickly scan the page, and then the only thing I can hear is my own, shaky voice. "No. This is impossible."

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I hope you liked the chapter! See you in the next one :)