He Brought Me Home, But Never Made Me Family Chapter 01

He Brought Me Home, But Never Made Me Family Chapter 01

By the fourth year after my biological brother brought me back to the Whitmore family, I still only had provisional enrollment.

I still had no official place in the Whitmore dependent records.

The first year, he said Isla was too young to accept that she was not the Whitmores’ biological daughter.

The second year, he said Isla’s birthday wish was to be the family’s only little princess for one more year.

The third year, he said Isla had her graduation exams coming up, and changing her status then would throw her off.

Even after she graduated, I was still scrambling to meet the special admissions deadline for the Hawthorne Institute for Advanced Research.

The institute required Eastbridge residency verification before the admissions deadline.

That was when I saw Isla’s Instagram Story.

“Does not needing my brother anymore mean I’m finally grown up?”

Below it was a screenshot of Adrian’s reply.

“It’s my fault for not doing better.”

And a photo of the condo deed he had signed over to her that very day.

I zoomed in on that deed over and over.

All I could think about was what Adrian had told me two weeks earlier.

He had said the family trust no longer had a clean property transfer available this year.

He had said my residency and enrollment paperwork would have to wait.

My eyes were stinging when his call came through.

“Isla’s anxious about becoming an adult and feeling like she has nothing of her own, so I transferred a condo to her. She feels better now, and you can always come home.”

“The Whitmore trust can’t process another property transfer this year. Next year, I’ll make sure you have a real home, Willa. I promise.”

I was about to break when messages from Mom and Dad popped up.

“If you’re unhappy, just come home. We found an apartment in Eastbridge and secured your residency. This will always be your home.”

I wiped my eyes and typed back one word.

“Okay.”

I was done waiting, Adrian.

The home you could never give me?

I had already found it more than ten years ago.

The call was still connected.

My screen was still frozen on that Instagram Story full of gifts.

Large transfers, a luxury car, designer pieces that had not even hit stores yet, the condo deed, and a travel itinerary for two.

Most of it looked almost the same as what he had given me, except for the things I had never received.

But the girl in the photos looked happier than I had ever been.

I suddenly wanted to know.

“What’s different about these things?”

Adrian sounded awkward, like he was afraid I would get the wrong idea.

“I promised her all this before you came back. These are things she’s always liked.”

“What’s wrong? You don’t like them? I’ll get you something else.”

That line felt too familiar.

The first time we ate together, he noticed which dish I had not touched.

He said if I did not like it, he would get me something else next time.

On graduation day, he showed up with flowers for both Isla and me.

Hers were her favorite lisianthus.

Mine were roses, which I was allergic to.

He apologized and said he did not know what I liked.

He said he would get me something else next time.

He had said that line so many times over three years.

So many times that I went from uncomfortable to completely numb.

While I stayed silent, a wire transfer notification popped up on my phone.

“Buy whatever you like.”

I should have felt grateful.

He was not like the cruel brothers in those switched-at-birth stories, always biased and hypocritical.

He never treated me like a burden.

He always tried to meet my needs.

But something still sat heavy in my chest, and I could never explain why.

Now I finally understood where it came from.

He had never tried to know me the way he knew Isla.

He did not care what I liked.

He did not care how I felt every time I faced this strange new family.

What he gave me was always whatever was convenient.

When I stayed quiet, he started talking about the residency again.

“Don’t worry. Even if the property transfer is used up, I’ll figure out a way to get you enrolled. Worst case, we’ll list your address under a relative for now. It won’t be transferable for a few years, but…”

I suddenly felt done.

What was the point of always being registered under someone else’s name?

I cut him off.

“I want to go home.”