Twenty-one Gifts.

Unrealistic Anger.

You know how you see people in movies or on television become so angry that they say and do outrageous things they regret, and you find yourself thinking about how unrealistic that is? Like her boyfriend cheated on her with her sister, so the natural thing for her to do is completely total his car. I totally get it now. Maybe not the whole wrecking a car thing, but I definitely understand the anger behind the action.

As I stare down at the letter, worn out from 2 years of being hidden away, I try to calm my anger. I try counting to 3. I try thinking of happy thoughts. Hell, I even try yoga breathing. I try all of the cliche anger management techniques that I can think of, but despite my best effort, I am still profoundly angry.

"What is all this yelling?" My mother asks when she finally enters the room. I can't bring myself to look at her, let alone speak to her, so I hand her the letter instead. She takes it from me and I can tell that she doesn't realize what it is yet, but then I hear her take a sharp intake of breath and I know that she knows. "Sparrow, I don't know how you found this but I really wish you hadn't been snooping around in my room." She betrayed my trust, but this is her only logical response?

"Snooping?" I yell, outraged that she is skirting the issue of why she had the letter in the first place. Karen Parker is excellent at evasion, but I'm not going to let that happen this time. "Are you joking right now? I was not snooping. I was packing because you cannot stand to be in this house anymore, or have you forgotten?" I seethe.

"Watch that tone. I am still your mother."

I can't help myself. I laugh. I don't laugh because I think this situation is funny, because it is not funny at all. No, I laugh because this woman is absolutely insane.

"Why do you have this letter?" I really don't know what her answer will be, but I don't have high expectations that I am going to like it.

"I should have thrown that awful thing away when I had the chance, but your father wouldn't let me. Then, I suppose the whole thing just slipped my mind. It's not like you need it anyway." She sounds bored when she speaks, like she is over this whole conversation entirely, and that just seems to add fuel to the already raging fire inside of me.

"Thats not, nor was it ever, your decision to make. Who are you to tell me what I do or do not need?" I am so beyond pissed off, and the words just leave my mouth before my brain has even had a chance to properly process them. I can't bring myself to back down, however. A fight like this has been in the works for a long time, but it is a shame that it had to happen so soon after my fathers death.

"Why would you need it? It's not like you are going to pursue this woman." She states the words like they are a manner of fact. Like it is some unscrupulous thing that would never happen, and that makes me think.

"Maybe I will."

As soon as those words leave my mouth, her eyes snap up to meet mine, and I notice her face take on the red tint of anger, letting me know that I have broken through her carefully built wall of calm. "Thats ludacris. You don't mean it, and I won't allow it."

"You see Karen, thats the great thing about being an adult who lives on her own. You have no say over what it is that I do, and  I don't have to listen to you." That is the last thing that I say to the woman that adopted me, before I leave the house that I grew up in for the last time.

***
That night, I don't sleep very well. It has nothing to do with the fight with my mother, and everything to do with the letter that has reappeared into my life.

Like magic. Or the plague.

When I am finally able to get any sleep, I dream of my experience meeting Franklin Moore for the first time.

I have always hated waiting rooms. Doesn't matter where. A waiting room is a waiting room, and I am always so anxious for whatever it is that I am waiting for because it is never a good thing. This waiting room is no different. There is still the uncomfortable line of chairs with the ugly little tables in between them, housing outdated magazines. The room still has the distinct small of disinfectant that is so strong, you can choke on it. The people. Don't get me started on the people. I think the people in waiting rooms are the worst because they all make awkward eye contact, which in turn means you have to give a small smile and acknowledge their existence because it would be rude not to. Not that I care about formalities.

I'm not here to share an awkward greeting with the 4 strangers currently scattered in the remaining chairs in the waiting room. I am here to meet Franklin Moore, my biological grandmothers lawyer, and do what has to be done to end this chapter of my life.

I don't want to be here. I never asked for this to happen. My life was perfectly fine. I was content to go on thinking that my name was Sparrow Parker, and I was the daughter of Mike and Karen Parker. That I was the biological sister of Liam Parker, and we were a normal, happy family. Then that letter came and blew up my whole world.

I've been putting off doing this for almost 4 months, but the letter mocks me. I dream about it when I sleep and when I am awake. It is ruining my life, and I just want to get this over with.

"Sparrow Parker?" I hear my name being called and follow the woman back to a small office where a balding man sits behind a large oak desk. This must be Franklin Moore. The man shakes my hand and introduces himself, and I was correct in assuming his identity. He goes through the niceties of asking if I want something to drink, and even offering a bit of small talk. About the weather, no less.

Did I mention that I also hate small talk?

"So Sparrow, I have some paperwork for you to sign so you can receive the bank transfer from your grandmothers account, and then I also have a key for a safety deposit box she left for you.":

"Safety deposit box? She mentioned nothing about that." I say quietly, confused about why it was not mentioned in her letter, because she had been so forthcoming about everything else.

"Yes, Angel left me detailed instructions based on that box. Basically, it houses more information about your mother. Angel was not sure if you would be interested in finding out about her, but she was hopeful, and she asked me to ensure that you take the key just in case you decide that it is something you want to pursue." He speaks methodically and a bit monotoned, but he is confident and I can tell that this is something that he has been doing for a long time.

"I don't think I will be using the key, but I will take it to honor one of her wishes at least."

"I think that is more than she expected." Is his only reply before we dive into bank transfers, and I become a very wealthy young woman.

A/N: Don't be discouraged, Harry will be introduced soon. I have to create some character development for Sparrow before I can just go throwing Harry in all willnilly. Expect him to make an entrance around chapter 7.

-Natt