The Forgotten Heir

Chapter 3: Whispers of the Unknown

The next morning, Ryan felt the weight of the envelope still tucked under his mattress as he got dressed. It wasn't heavy, not physically, but it sat there like a boulder in his mind. Each glance at his parents felt sharper now, each laugh edged with a bitterness he didn't know he had in him.

He stared at himself in the mirror, fists gripping the edge of his dresser. "Adopted," he whispered, testing the word out loud. It sounded foreign, unreal. It didn't fit with the life he'd always known. But the proof sat just a few feet away, undeniable.

For the first time, his reflection looked like someone he didn't recognize.

At breakfast, the usual chatter filled the room. Lily hummed as she buttered toast, Mike read aloud bits of the sports page, and Ryan sat silent, his spoon idly stirring his cereal.

"You okay, kiddo?" Mike asked, folding the newspaper and looking at Ryan with concern.

"Yeah, fine," Ryan said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just tired. Practice ran late."

"You sure?" Lily chimed in, sliding a plate of toast onto the table. "You've been quiet this morning."

Ryan shrugged. "Guess I'm saving my energy for Saturday. Gotta conserve the genius," he said with a smirk.

Mike chuckled. "Good plan. Don't want to wear out the Carter charm."

Ryan flinched at the name. Carter. Was it even really his name? The bitterness returned, threatening to spill over, but he shoved it down. He couldn't afford to let them see anything was wrong—not yet.

"Totally," he muttered, biting into his toast and focusing on the crunch to drown out his thoughts.

At school, Ryan's mood shifted, but only slightly. He leaned harder into his usual sarcastic, sassy persona, keeping his teammates and classmates entertained with his sharp wit. But beneath the jokes, his mind churned with unanswered questions.

During lunch, his best friend Jake slid into the seat across from him, plunking down a tray of questionable cafeteria food.

"You're weird today," Jake said, narrowing his eyes. "You're too funny. Like, extra funny. It's suspicious."

Ryan snorted. "What can I say? I'm a gift to humanity."

Jake smirked but leaned closer. "Seriously, dude. What's up? Did someone mess with you at practice or something?"

For a moment, Ryan considered telling him. Jake was his closest friend, the only person who might understand. But then he thought about the questions that would follow, the pity, the advice to "just talk to your parents." No, this wasn't something Jake could help with.

"Nothing, man," Ryan said, shrugging. "Just got a lot on my mind. School. Volleyball. You know, the usual."

Jake didn't look convinced, but he let it go, shifting the conversation to the upcoming game. Ryan played along, cracking jokes and throwing in exaggerated predictions about the score, but his mind remained elsewhere.

After school, Ryan headed straight to the library instead of going home. He couldn't shake the feeling that the answers he needed were somewhere out there, waiting for him. The problem was knowing where to start.

He grabbed a computer in the far corner, away from prying eyes, and pulled out the adoption certificate. His hands were steady now, his resolve stronger.

"Okay," he muttered, typing into the search bar. "Adoption records... how to find biological parents... sealed records...."

The internet was both helpful and frustrating. Half the results led to dead ends, and the rest were filled with legal jargon or ads for private investigators. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.

"Think, Ryan," he whispered. "There's gotta be a clue. Something you're missing."

His eyes drifted back to the certificate. The date—June 15th, 2009. His adoption day. It felt strange to see it written out so plainly, like a milestone he didn't know he had.

He typed it into the search bar, pairing it with his birthdate. The results narrowed, but nothing jumped out. Frustration bubbled up, but Ryan forced himself to stay calm. This wasn't a volleyball game; he couldn't just dive for the ball and hope for the best. He needed patience.

That evening, back at home, Ryan's parents were in the kitchen preparing dinner. The smell of spaghetti and garlic bread filled the air, but Ryan didn't feel hungry. He lingered in the hallway, watching them laugh and talk as they moved around the kitchen in perfect sync.

"Pass me the basil," Mike said, pointing at the counter.

"You mean the oregano?" Lily teased, handing him the small jar.

"Same difference," Mike replied, sprinkling it over the sauce with a flourish.

Ryan's chest tightened. They looked so normal, so genuine. How could they have kept something so huge from him? Did they feel guilty? Did they think he wouldn't notice? Or worse, did they think he didn't deserve to know?

"Ryan!" Lily called, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Come set the table!"

"On it!" he replied, forcing a cheerful tone as he stepped into the kitchen. He grabbed the plates and started laying them out, carefully avoiding eye contact.

"You're quiet again," Lily said, watching him curiously.

"Just tired," Ryan lied.

"Must be all that conserving of genius," Mike teased, nudging him with his elbow.

"Yeah, gotta keep the genius fresh," Ryan replied with a faint smile. But inside, he was unraveling.

That night, as he lay in bed, Ryan stared at the ceiling, the adoption certificate clutched in his hands. He hadn't learned much today, but he had a lead: the agency listed on the certificate. Haven Adoption Services. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"I'll figure this out," he whispered to himself. "I don't care how long it takes. I'm going to find out where I came from."

The thought both scared and excited him. There was a whole part of his life he didn't know, a whole story that had been kept from him. And he wasn't going to stop until he uncovered it.

For better or worse, Ryan was determined to learn the truth.