Chapter Text
It's around five o’clock, and Cassie’s father has just arrived home. She can hear him catching up with her mom about their days as she cooks dinner, talking about poorly behaved kindergarteners and difficulty in sermon writing. ATN news is blaring in the background, per usual in the Anderson household, and Cassie is laying on the living room couch, attempting to take a nap before dinnertime. However, due to her insane caffeine intake from earlier that day (thanks to Peter starting her pre-school energy drink habit), she can't sleep. So instead, she tries to focus on the white noise that is her parents’ conversation overlapping with the news. Just as it all begins to blur together and she feels herself finally slipping into sleep, she hears something that instantly perks her ears up: her own name.
“Whenever you see this kind of stuff about the Roy family in the news, do you ever think, ‘wow, that was the life Cassie was supposed to live?’” Cassie hears her mother ask her father. Cassie’s eyes snap open, and for a second she thinks she had really fallen asleep and was dreaming. What does her mom mean, “the life Cassie was supposed to live?”
“Oh yeah, definitely. I mean, Roman would’ve been a terrible father,” Cassie’s father adds as porcelain clinks. He must be setting the table. “Think about it, Marcie. She almost certainly would’ve ended up being raised by a geriatric single mother with no time for her, all while being surrounded by one of America’s most scandal-ridden families. That’s no way for a child to grow up, no matter how much money they would’ve inevitably thrown at her.” Cassie maintains her position on the couch, laying on her back as flat and as still as humanly possible so they can’t see her over the back of the couch. She clearly is not meant to hear this conversation, so she is not about to give herself away. Thank God the couch faces away from the kitchen.
Her parents go silent for a few moments as her mother runs the garbage disposal. Cassie tries her hardest to focus on what the TV is saying. It's something about the Roman they had mentioned, but she can’t make out much other than his name over the churning of the garbage disposal. As soon as it switches off, Cassie holds her breath as she waits for more information.
“I’m so glad we got Cassie out of that situation, she has no idea how blessed she is, really,” says her mother. What? What situation? Cassie had never been in a "bad situation" in her life. Never in any life-threatening circumstances, nothing. What does her mom mean?
“Yup, couldn’t agree more,” Cassie’s father agrees. They go silent again, this time for a little longer. Cassie knows the conversation is over when they start discussing Micah’s upcoming Little League tournament in Muncie. That’s when she knows it was time to get out of the living room now. She doesn’t know what her next move is, but she needs to think.
Cassie cautiously crawls off the couch. Once she’s flat on her stomach and parallel to the floor, she begins to army crawl like she used to when she played hide and seek with her brothers. She repeatedly looks over, making sure her parents’ backs are turned, silently cursing their open floor plan that connects the living room and kitchen. Once she makes it to the dining room, she knows she’s halfway in the clear. She stands up and tiptoes, feeling like a cartoon character, all the way to the stairs, making sure to avoid the floorboards she knows that creak.
Once she gets upstairs, unsure of what to do or how to process any of the information she had just heard, she instinctively knocks on her older brother Peter’s bedroom door. As the brother closest in age to her (only eighteen months older than her), Peter is her closest confidant and her partner in crime since they were babies. Their family and friends had always referred to them as “the twins,” and they had been attached at the hip since Cassie could remember. Peter would know what to do.
“Hey, uh, Peter? Can I come in?” Cassie asks meekly once Peter had swung the door open.
“Yeah, what’s up Cass- oh my God you look like you just saw a ghost,” Peter winces as he looks at her, “your face is white, dude. Get in here.” Peter grabs her arm and pulls her in, shutting the door behind them.
“I just overheard the weirdest conversation ever and I don’t know what to do. Like, I'm not entirely sure I wasn’t dreaming,” Cassie explains, dropping down in Peter’s gaming chair.
“Well, spill it!” Peter urges.
“Okay, I know it sounds absolutely insane, but it sounded like Mom and Dad were almost implying they weren’t my real parents.” Cassie looks up from where she’d been staring at the ground to see Peter looking back at her, eyebrow raised skeptically.
“Uh huh…”
“Like, they said something about how anytime they see something about the Roys they think about the life I was supposed to live. Which, I don’t even know who the Roys are. And then Dad says something about how this guy named Roman would’ve been a terrible father and how I would’ve been raised by a single mom and they got me out of a bad situation. I swear I’m not making this up, Peter.”
Peter continues to stare at her like she has lobsters crawling out of her ears. She could tell he was processing by the way his face changes expressions about ten different times.
“You know, Cass, I’m not gonna lie to you. That’s absolutely insane,” he finally says bluntly. Cassie scoffs back at him.
"I told you it was gonna sound crazy, but you have to believe me! I swear I would never make this up." Cassie frantically tries to explain herself. She knows that this probably sounds like the delusions of a psych ward patient, but she needs to get this off her chest, and Peter can help her plan."
“Well, there’s really only one way to prove this without going to Mom and Dad because we both know that's off the table." Peter starts.
"What's that?"
"We check your birth certificate.” Peter declares. He stands up confidently, sticking his elbow out for Cassie to loop her arm through.
“Where even is it, though?” Cassie asks, reluctantly looping her arm through Peter’s.
“In the safe in Mom and Dad’s closet.” It was Cassie’s turn to look skeptical.
"Why do you even know that?"
“I needed it for my driver’s test a few months ago.”
“The more you know,” Cassie shrugs.
As soon as they get into their parents room, Peter is quick to instruct Cassie.
“Ok, you stand guard and I’ll grab it, ‘kay?” Cassie salutes him and positions herself against the wall next to the door, making sure no footsteps are heard coming their way. As she stands, she had no idea what to think. Part of her knows it’s almost too crazy to be true. Maybe they knew she wasn’t asleep so they decided to mess with her. Maybe she really dreamed it. A million possibilities run through her head.
Peter emerges after what feels like a hundred years (but was more like ten minutes), document in hand. This time, it’s his turn to look ghostly pale.
“I hate to be cliché, but, uhh, you’re really gonna want to see this, Cass.” Cassie's heart drops. He grabs her arm and drags her out of their parents room and down the hall. As soon as they’re safe in his room, he slams the door shut and hands her the document face down, like a teacher would when a student had failed a test.
“Do you want to see it…?” he asks meekly. Cassie shrugs absentmindedly, running the pads of her fingers along the edge of the paper.
“I guess I don’t really have a choice now. We went through all that trouble. Plus, this way I can know for sure, I guess. If I dreamed it this will all just be some silly misunderstanding we laugh about later!” Cassie slowly turns over the document. Her eyes are first drawn to the top, where the words Commonwealth of Kentucky are typed in big, bold letters. As soon as she reads that, her eyes flick right back up to Peter, who seems to be reading her mind.
“I know. Kentucky.” For someone who was supposedly born and raised in Indiana, that comes as an immediate shock to Cassie. Her parents had never ever let on that she was born anywhere else other than the Grant County hospital, just like all three of her brothers. Not that she ever had any reason to assume otherwise. If you’re told you were born in Indiana and have no proof otherwise, you have no reason to question it.
Cassie moves on to read the rest of her birth certificate. Still trying to give her parents the benefit of the doubt, she assumes that maybe she had been born in Kentucky and they just…never told her? After all, her dad has some family down there, maybe they were visiting when her mom was nine months pregnant and she went into labor? But she would’ve known this, right?
Cassie’s vision almost blacks out as she reads her parents’ names.
Mother’s Name: Geraldine Kellman
Father’s Name: Roman Roy
She moves from where she was standing near Peter’s doorway to flop face first on his bed, birth certificate gripped tightly in her hand.
“Cass? Cassie? You good?” she feels the bed shift from Peter sitting down next to her. All she can do is nod. If she makes any sudden movements, she’ll pass out. How could her parents have hidden this so well for this long? When were they planning on telling her?
They sat in silence for a little while. Peter gently rubs her back as she fights back tears. More than anything, she feels betrayed. All these years and they never told her?
“So I guess all those adoption jokes you made when we were little turned out to be true,” Cassie finally says, rolling over onto her back so she is staring up at the ceiling.
“I can’t believe that is your initial reaction to all this,” Peter says, letting out a pity-ridden laugh, “I mean, genuinely, Cassie, do you even know who the Roys are?”
Cassie shakes her head no. Are they people she is supposed to know of?
“They’re, like, one of the richest families in America. Roman is the son of one of the richest men of all time. If you play your cards right here, you could be set for life. Like, never have to work a day in your life.”
“Oh," Cassie mutters.
She tries to process this more, finally saying, “I’m not going to use them for their money if this goes anywhere. I don’t even know how I could contact either of them. Roman at least is too high-profile to get his information, I assume.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m sure with a little bit of digging you could find some form of contact for each of them. Do you want to reach out to them?”
“I mean, yeah, of course I do!” Cassie sits up, cross-legged on the bed as she continues to study her birth certificate.
“This is insane, right? Like, this isn’t real. I’m still on the couch napping and this is all a dream.” As Cassie says that, Peter reaches out and pinches her upper arm hard.
“OW PETER WHAT THE HELL!” Cassie shouts as Peter laughs at her pain.
“See? Not dreaming. Fortunately or unfortunately, this is all real.”
Suddenly, their mother’s voice from downstairs startles both of them, “Cassie! Peter! Dinner!”
“Shoot, what do we do with this?” Cassie asks, crazily waving around the document.
“I don’t know!”
“Well, Mom and Dad can’t know that I know. I’ll get in so much trouble, I’m sure of it.”
“Here, hide it under my pillow. We can put it back after dinner. Please just...try and be normal during dinner and we can research your parents after.”
“How in God’s name am I supposed to “be normal” after I just found out my parents have been lying to me the past fifteen years of my life and I am really the daughter of a billionaire?” Cassie exclaims, her voice growing louder. Peter quickly shushes her.
“Don’t yell like that if you don’t want to get caught! Are you crazy? Now let’s go eat dinner. It’ll all be fine, I promise.” Cassie can tell Peter is trying to be sincere and kind, but his mind is definitely going a million miles a minute as well.
At dinner, Cassie and Peter put on an acting performance worthy of an Academy Award. They act chipper as ever, and both try their best (although they were probably doing too much) to come off as normally as humanly possible. Cassie feels a bit unnerved throughout dinner, though. It makes her sick to her stomach how her parents just carry on and act like everything is normal. To be fair, they’d been doing it for the past fifteen years, but it just makes Cassie feel ill now that she knows the truth. But she can’t raise any red flags, so she dutifully chokes down her baked ziti and green beans.
Once she notices Peter is done, Cassie makes eye contact with him, signaling they need to go back upstairs and continue their research. Once their eyes meet, he nods ever so slightly.
“Peter and I are gonna go upstairs, I have algebra 2 homework I need his help with,” Cassie says as she gets up. Peter mirrors her, pushing in his chair and walking around the table to stand next to her.
“Yup, you know algebra 2,” Peter laughs dryly, “hard stuff.”
“Well, come back downstairs if you want dessert. It was one of my student’s birthdays today and I got to bring home some of the leftover brownies,” their mom tells them. Perks of having a mom that's a kindergarten teacher, leftover birthday treats.
“Will-do,” Cassie says, making lame finger guns at her mom and backing up towards the door.
Once they are in the clear, Cassie and Peter bolt upstairs, shutting Peter’s door once they are both safe inside.
“Ok, go-time. Let’s find your parents.” Peter powers on his computer and immediately opens Google. Cassie sits on his bed behind him, rocking back and forth nervously, almost like a stereotypical depiction of a crazy person. Go ahead and put her in a straightjacket. “I’m looking your mom up first because I have way less of an idea who she is. Actually, I have no idea who she is at all," Peter says matter-of-factly. Cassie nods and watches as he types her mother’s name into the search bar. Once the results start to load, however, she screws her eyes shut.
“I don’t know if I’m ready yet. Should I be? Tell me what you see. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now,” Cassie’s mouth moves a mile a minute with her entire stream of consciousness coming out at once.
“Okay…from what I can see she is the General Counsel of Waystar Royco, which is the company your entire family runs, apparently.”
“So I have no idea what General Counsel is,” Cassie admits, eyes still closed.
“Basically she is the company’s head lawyer. Which I don’t think is a particularly fun job right now because Waystar is in deep shit on something to do with their cruise line.”
“Oh.”
“Do you wanna open your eyes now? I’m on the company website and I can’t find much more information about her on here other than a bunch of her job history and stuff she’s done for the company. There’s a picture of her on here if you wanna see her, though.”
Cassie opens her eyes after a moment and slowly makes her way off the bed to stand behind Peter’s gaming chair. On his computer screen, staring back at her, is a photo of the woman who gave birth to her. Who carried her for nine months. The woman who shares half of her DNA. The most beautiful and elegant woman Cassie had ever seen.
“She looks just like you, Cass,” Peter’s voice is soft and heartfelt. Cassie moves closer so her face is mere inches away from Peter’s computer screen. She wanted to memorize the photo, sear it into her brain forever.
Cassie moves on to reading her bio on the website. A lot of it contains corporate and legal jargon she doesn’t quite understand, but she can gather one thing: her mother is a very successful woman. At that moment, Cassie begins to sympathize with her. No wonder she gave her away. She clearly didn’t have time for a daughter. Cassie was simply a minor speed bump in the road of her career.
“I wanna see Roman now.” Cassie states flatly. Peter nods and types Roman’s name into Google. The first few articles that pop up are a bunch of tabloid articles, so Peter quickly scrolls past those and clicks on his company bio as well.
“So he’s the founder of Waystar Royco’s youngest son,” Peter explains as Cassie studies his bio and photo with the same intensity as she studied her mother’s, “so what that means is that you could get loaded if you do this right. Like, I’m talking hundreds of millions.”
Cassie fervently shakes her head, “Peter, I told you, I’m not doing this for the money. I would still be interested in finding them even if one of them wasn’t the son of a billionaire.”
“Also, and don’t take this the wrong way," Peter starts with a mischievous look in his eye, "but unless Roman’s picture hasn’t been updated in like twenty years, which I sincerely doubt is the case, your mom’s got like twenty years on him, dude,” Peter chuckles. Cassie follows that with a swift punch to his arm.
“Peter! We don’t know the situation!” Cassie shouts, almost scolding Peter.
“I think we do, your Dad likes MILFs!” Cassie screams at that, laughing, and throws a pillow at him. Peter follows that with a swift tackle, both of them laughing and yelling.
“Don’t ever talk about my father and MILFs in the same sentence ever again!” Cassie shrieks while weakly attempting to smother her brother with the same pillow she threw at his face.
The commotion must’ve reached downstairs, because before Cassie knows it her mother is standing, arms crossed, in the doorway.
“Peter James and Cassandra Faith, what on Earth is going on here?” she asks, stepping closer inside the room. Cassie and Peter both scramble to their feet. As if he read Cassie’s mind, Peter reaches over as subtly as possible and closes out the tabs on the computer before their mom can see.
“Please be mindful of what you all are yelling at each other, there’s little ears in this house,” their mom whispers, alluding to their seven year old brother Micah. “And for the record, I don’t know what you two are talking about, but I better not hear you talking about your Dad and MILFs again. That is beyond inappropriate.”
Cassie and Peter both try their best to maintain their composure, but they both burst out laughing.
“You got it, Mom!” Peter manages to say in between spurts of laughter. Cassie can barely form words as tears well in her eyes.
“I mean, seriously, you two. I don’t know what’s gotten into you all, acting like a couple of children,” their mother scoffs, “get that algebra homework done now. I don’t want to have to come back up here again.”
As their mom shuts the door behind her, Peter and Cassie burst out laughing again.
“Oh my gosh, she heard us say all of that stuff about Roman!” Cassie says.
“Hey, at least she didn’t pick up on the actual context. Small wins, dude.”
“Hey, that just reminded me, we need to call Asher and tell him what’s up,” Cassie tells her brother as they go back to their original positions; Peter in his chair and Cassie hovering over his shoulder.
“Wait, you’re right, duh.” Peter reaches for his phone and pulls up Asher’s contact. Cassie couldn’t remember the last time Asher either directly called either one of them unprompted. As a junior at the University of Indiana and a pre-med major, Asher is always insanely busy and it seems like he never had time for anyone in their family.
“Hey, I only have a few minutes, I’m studying for a midterm in one of my hardest classes right now,” Asher says, answering after the third ring, a new record.
“Okay, we have to be quiet because we don’t know who’s listening, but we found out something insane about Cassie,” Peter whispers into the phone.
“Wait, let me guess, she’s adopted,” Asher says dryly. Peter and Cassie just stare at each other, slack-jawed and dumbfounded at how he already knows this crucial information and just…didn’t say anything.
“Asher! How did you know?” Cassie whisper-shoutes into the phone.
“Because of your blood type, actually. Remember when I was in high school and I had to do that biology project where I needed to know everyone in the family's blood types?”
“Uh…yeah?”
“Well, your blood type is A negative. And I remembered thinking that was weird because Mom and Dad’s blood types and theirs are B positive and O negative.”
“Asher. Please. What does that mean?” Cassie nags, not wanting to have to dig for the answer.
“It means it’s literally biologically impossible for them to have a child that has an A blood type. So I kind of put the pieces together but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t know if it was my place.”
“ASHER!!!” Peter and Cassie both yell, forgetting about how they were scolded for being loud just minutes prior.
“How could you sit on that information and just…not tell me” Cassie whispers.
“I mean, genuinely, I felt like it wasn’t my place. I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you, but I didn’t know if there was some significant reason as to why Mom and Dad hadn’t told you yet.”
“Well…there kinda is,” Cassie starts, “you know that super rich family who owns ATN and stuff?”
“The Roys? Yeah, ‘course I do. I had to take a few business classes freshman year before I decided on my major and like half of my professors were in love with Logan Roy. I had to read his book in like two of my classes.”
“Well, his son, Roman, is apparently my birth father. And I know how insane that sounds, but I have a picture of my birth certificate to prove it.”
There is silence on the other line for a few moments, like Asher is processing the absolutely absurd news he just heard. Then, he speaks again.
“Genuinely how the fuck did you find this out?”
“Long story short I overheard Mom make a comment to Dad while the news was on about how the Roys are my ‘real family’ and how they basically rescued me from that situation, whatever that means. I think they thought I was asleep when they said all of that, because I definitely was not supposed to hear that conversation.”
“Jesus Christ, Cass. Are you going to reach out?”
“I want to yeah, but not for the money, let me make that abundantly clear. I wanted to reach out to my birth parents before I even knew they were loaded.”
“Bad news, though, Cass,” Peter interjects. He had been clicking away on the computer as Cassie and Asher had been talking, laser-focused on researching Gerri and Roman, “I can’t find any publicly available contact information for either of them.”
Cassie frowns at that, her mind immediately racing to try and come up with the next possible solution. However it kept coming up empty.
“Ugh, well what do we do now?” she asks, exasperated. She walks over to the bed and lays face-down onto it again, groaning in defeat.
“Hey, before you get too discouraged, remember these are two very important people. And what do very important people have? Assistants,” Asher states from the phone. Cassie’s face lights up and Peter starts typing away, scouring Waystar’s websites for any ounce of information.
“Well, listen guys, I gotta go. I have study group in 10. Let me know if you guys find anything out. And Cass, I’m really sorry I kept this from you. Truly, I am. Please keep me posted, ‘kay?”
“I will, Asher. Love ya.”
“Love you too, Cassie.”
The phone goes dead just as Peter announces, “Cassie, I found something!”
Cassie springs from the bed and rushes over to see that Peter had found a page listing all of the assistants to the executives (or pretty much all of the important people at Waystar).
“Nick and Alice,” Cassie says under her breath. Nick being Roman’s main assistant and Alice being Gerri’s. Their emails are conveniently listed directly under their names and photos on the webpage.
“We just hit the jackpot, dude. We gotta reach out to them!” Peter turns to face Cassie, who looks so concentrated you could practically see the gears turning in her head.
“Do you want to reach out, Cass?” Peter asks. Cassie nods.
“Yeah, yeah I do. I just have no idea what I’m even supposed to say. ‘Hi, I’m your fifteen year old daughter you gave up for adoption because you clearly did not want me. Can I be in your life? Thanks!’” Cassie muses.
“Well, I’d be a bit more eloquent than that…” Peter starts.
“Well obviously.”
“Here, log into your email account here so it doesn’t say the email is from me. I think it would look suspicious if your email came from an address with a different name,” Peter instructs. Cassie enters her information and logs in. She pulls up a blank email, enters in the emails of Nick and Alice, and then just stands back and stares, arms crossed as if she is studying the blank email.
“Now what? I don’t even know what to put for the subject!”
“Relax, we can figure this out together. Maybe for the subject, just put ‘Important.’ It doesn’t give too much away but it will definitely grab their attention,” Peter suggests. Cassie nods fiercely and types that in.
“Ok, how’s this, ‘Dear Nick and Alice, I was unable to find Mr. Roy or Ms. Kellman’s–”
“Oh, so we’re going formal with this?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m on a first name basis with either of them just yet. I’m trying to be polite, Peter,” Cassie replies dryly.
“Fair enough."
“‘I was unable to find Mr. Roy or Ms. Kellman’s contact information,” Cassie resumes, “so I thought I could reach out to you all and you can forward this information to them. Let me be clear before I go any further, this is not a scam and I am not coming after any money. I can email you all a copy of my birth certificate if you think it is necessary. But as of a few hours ago, I found out that I was adopted and my biological parents are Mr. Roy and Ms. Kellman,’” Cassie finishes reading aloud her stream of consciousness that she had typed so far. “Is that good?”
“Yeah, and I think it’s definitely smart you said you were willing to send a picture of your birth certificate. I think that shows you mean business. A scammer probably wouldn’t say that.”
“Or should I just go ahead and send a picture of my birth certificate? Maybe a picture of me to prove I’m a real person?” Cassie anxiously suggests as many ideas as possible, desperately wanting this to go off without a hitch. Peter sits for a second, thinking.
“Let’s go ahead and send a photo of you. We can hold off on the birth certificate unless they ask for it since that’s much more sensitive info.”
Cassie grabs her phone from where it was sitting on Peter’s desk and starts scrolling for the perfect photo.
“Ugh, why do I have, like, no pictures of just me?” Cassie laments, “I don’t want to send any pictures with other people in them because I don’t want to confuse them.”
Peter laughs at that. “Cassie, I don’t think anyone is going to confuse your friends for you since you are in fact your birth mother’s clone. Except, well, not blonde.”
“Huh. Yeah, I guess so.” Cassie hadn't processed how much she looked like her birth mother until Peter made that comment. It made her heart hurt a bit, sharing a face with a woman she had never met.
After scrolling for what felt like forever, Cassie decides on a solo shot of her on the beach from their family trip last year to Mackinac Island. She emails the picture to Peter’s computer and then attaches it to the email.
Cassie continues typing and reading the email simultaneously, “‘I promise, I couldn’t make this up if I tried. I was born in Louisville, Kentucky on February 6th, 2006. However, I don’t have much information about my adoption other than what’s on my birth certificate. I was unable to find my adoption papers. I currently live in Grant County, Indiana. If my birth parents are willing, I would love nothing more than to be put in contact with them. If they are not, I completely understand. I attached a photo of myself for further proof if it is needed. Thank you so much for your time and consideration. Cassie Anderson.’”
“I think that’s good, honestly,” Peter says as Cassie finishes typing.
“Oh God, Peter, are you sure? If I send this, I feel like this makes it real. Like, my whole life changes if and when I send this,” Cassie says nervously, bringing up her thumbnail to bite at it.
“Cassie. You don’t have to do this. We can delete this email and forget this ever happened,” Peter reassures her. Cassie shakes her head. A definitive no.
“No. No, I think I owe this to myself. If Mom and Dad were never going to tell me I feel like I have the right to do this myself and to contact them. Can you…can you press send though?” Cassie asks meekly.
“Ready?”
“Ready.” Just as Cassie gives her approval, the email is sent.
“And now we wait,” Peter says, spinning around in his chair to better face his younger sister.
“Listen, I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’m mentally exhausted and I have a lot to think about,” Cassie yawns, getting up from Peter’s bed and making her way towards the doorway.
“You sure? A lot just happened to you in a very short amount of time. Do you really want to be alone, Cass?” Peter asks genuinely.
“No, I think I just need to be in my room and not talk to anyone for the rest of the night. I’m so drained.”
“I feel ya, you've been through a lot today. See you in the morning. And if you get a response PLEASE tell me. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night. Come wake me up. Just tell me as SOON as you know,” Peter pleads and makes mock prayer-hands.
“You know I will,” Cassie says, smiling softly and shutting Peter’s door behind her. Once she enters the hallway, she can hear the sounds of Micah’s cartoons blaring on the TV downstairs. Good, her parents should be distracted for the better part of the evening. As soon as she's in the safety of her own room, Cassie lays down on her bed, opens her email app, and starts refreshing it like a crazy person. Of course there would be no responses just yet. It was nearing nine at night and the assistants would probably be at home, Cassie assumed. At best, Cassie hoped for a response within the next week. These were busy people, there was no way that this email from a random kid from Indiana claiming to be their boss’ long lost daughter was at the top of their priority list.
That train of thought sparks something in Cassie, though. She switches out of email and into Google, where she types in ‘Roman Roy’ and begins to scroll through all of the pictures that appear. In most of the pictures of him, whether posed, paparazzi, or other, he gives off the impression that he is putting on an act. Like a class clown hiding behind a mask. The picture that strikes Cassie the most is a picture of him from a gala where he was dramatically leaned back, grabbing at his date, with a coy smirk on his face. Cassie saves the photo, using it as a window into her father’s personality, although photos can really only tell you so much.
Another picture that sticks out to Cassie is a picture of Roman with another man and woman, both seemingly close in age to him. The caption under it says something about the “Roy Siblings,” so Cassie clicks the link. In all of the chaos of earlier, she had completely forgotten that being adopted and having birth parents means you unlock a whole other family. She didn’t even consider she’d get new aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents– not just new parents.
The article says the two people next to Roman are his siblings, Kendall and Siobhan. Cassie studies them, trying to pick apart their features and their expressions. Siobhan’s smile was tight-lipped, almost forced, yet she still looks beautiful and classy. It looks as if she was trying to hold back and not reveal too much of herself. Kendall, however, wasn’t even smiling. He just stares at the camera with gaunt eyes. It’s almost haunting.
As Cassie exits the article and begins to scroll through more pictures of Roman, she begins to notice that her mother was present in literally none of them, save for a group photo of all the executives. Cassie bites her lip, trying to process what that implies. Maybe Roman didn’t even know Cassie existed. If they were still together as a couple, surely they would have been photographed together more times than one company group photo, right? Something was weird about this.
Cassie switches gears and types her mother's name into Google. Significantly less information comes up, however that didn’t really surprise Cassie since she didn’t have nearly the background and reputation that Roman apparently does. Most of the pictures of her are from galas, corporate events, and news articles. She clicks on a picture from what appears to be the same gala of Roman’s picture. While Cassie has Roman’s hair color and shorter stature, everything else seemed to come from her mother. Her eyes, nose, lips, everything. Peter was right, she was her brunette spitting image. It suddenly makes everything so real. The woman whose face she shares and who carried her for nine months was all the way in New York City (which may as well be the Moon right now) and Cassie may never even get to meet her.
Cassie spends the rest of the evening alternating between scrolling through pictures of her parents on Google, crying, and refreshing her email app. Once eleven o’clock rolls around, Cassie finally decides she’s had enough and it’s time for bed. After all, it was a school night and she somehow has to act normal at school tomorrow.
Once she’s out of the shower and getting into bed, there is a faint knock at the door.
“Come in!” Cassie shouts from her bed. The door slowly creaks open, revealing her Mom.
“Hey, sweetie, I feel like I barely got to talk to you today. Is everything alright?” Cassie nods almost too aggressively in response as her mother sits at the foot of the bed.
“Yeah, everything’s good! I’m just really tired. School and soccer are kicking my butt.”
“Okay honey, I was just worried. You weren’t like yourself at dinner,” Cassie’s mom tells her. She’s fidgeting with the hem of her cardigan and neglecting to make eye contact with Cassie, almost like she's nervous to have this conversation. “Oh, before I forget, Peter says he can drive you to school tomorrow. His before-school meeting got canceled.” Cassie silently cheers. Perfect, more time to strategize.
“Perfect, thanks for checking in on me, Mom,” Cassie says, stifling a yawn.
“I’ll let you sleep, it’s late. Good night, honey,” Cassie’s mom gets up, gives her a kiss on the forehead, and then slips out quietly.
As she lays there, in the darkness and silence of her bedroom, Cassie knows that she isn't going to get much sleep tonight. Her brain feels like it's been in working overtime since earlier, and it isn’t shutting down anytime soon. Just for good measure, she checks email app one more time before finally turning her phone off for the night.
Still nothing.
Sighing, Cassie rolls over and tries not to think too hard about how much her life is about to change.
***
Gerri Kellman wakes up at three thirty-six to her phone going absolutely berserk on the nightstand next to her bed. It isn't out of the ordinary for her to get late night texts or emails about work, but nothing like this. She reaches over to her nightstand, grabbing her reading glasses and phone. She expects the notifications to come from a panicked assistant or Logan with a late-night epiphany, which are the usual texts she receives at this hour.
The first text she sees, though, is from Roman.
Why did you never tell me we have a daughter.
A second text rolls in just as she reads that.
How could you?
Gerri’s phone falls to the floor with a clatter.
Fuck.