α ¢υρ σf тєα αи∂ α кι∂ | ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ x ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴏᴄ| АѲT FF

A saying goes, blood runs thicker than water. I used to believe that. That the ties of family were bound in flesh, in DNA, in the weight of shared blood. And that's why I took her in. A child to bear the Ackerman name, nothing more. I never needed a wife, never wanted one, and the family wouldn't shut up about lineage. So I found a solution.

But having a child and raising one are two different things.

She didn't look like me. Not in the slightest. Pale, mismatched eyes like some eerie little specter, hair darker than my own. There was nothing of mine in her face. But blood only speaks in resemblance-habits, behaviors, soul-those come from something else entirely.

At first, she was just there, like an extra piece of furniture. A brat who followed me around, made demands in her tiny, stubborn voice, clung to my mother like she'd been born from her instead of someone I'd never know. And slowly, without permission, without me even noticing, she started to mirror me.The way she held her cup-my cup-fingers curled around the porcelain just like mine. The sharp tsk of her tongue when something annoyed her. The way she'd bury herself against Mom's side, small arms clinging tight, seeking comfort the same way I once did.

She didn't look like my kid. She acted like it.

She stole things that were mine-my old baby blanket, my chair at the table, the best spot on the couch. And then she went further, took things I didn't even realize I still owned. She stole the quiet in this house and replaced it with the soft hum of her voice, the sound of tiny feet against the floor. She stole the weight in my chest and replaced it with something I couldn't name.

The saying was wrong.

The full truth is: The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

And I have never been more certain of anything in my goddamn life.