A Lost Daughter Ch. 25

Hearing her adoptive sister sob set Sienna off, and filled with hormones from the pregnancy it wasn't difficult to push her into an emotionally charged state as I had learned over the last few months.

It took a solid 30 seconds before the two teens were composed enough to break free and Sienna finally stepped aside to let Hannah inside our home. As she stepped inside and Sienna closed the door behind her, I watched the young woman as she scanned the area pensively. I noticed her eyes pause on the overflowing ashtray sitting conspicuously on the coffee table and knew that she recognized Sienna's cell phone placed right next to it. Her pastel pink phone case and sparkly stickers spelling out 'S-I-E-N-N-A' were pretty hard to misidentify.

Her gaze broke off after a moment and rested on me, as I stood awkwardly in the center of the room staring at her.

"Hey Hannah, not sure if we've ever officially met. My name is Matt," I introduced, reaching my hand out cordially.

"Oh, hi, I'm Sienna's sister, Hannah," she said politely while shaking my hand daintily.

This was also the first time I had really had an opportunity to look at her, and it was very clear that despite viewing each other as 'sisters,' there was no blood relation between them. Hannah's hair was orange-red, center parted and stretched all the way to her belly button. Her face was slim, but pretty, with snow white skin and a smattering of pale orange freckles. She stood around 5'6" and was very petite, although I couldn't be sure of how much so with the rather baggy dress she wore. The pale blue of it reminded me of the vintage sleeping gowns that old women wore in classic movies and television, and the style aged her unflatteringly despite her otherwise youthful appearance.

There wasn't a trace of make-up on her, nor did she have a single visible piercing or any other jewelry. She could have passed for a Mormon, at least in terms of my limited perception of them, and stood with her hands clasped in front of her communicating a tremendous amount of discomfort.

"How did you get here?" Sienna asked.

I thanked her mentally for breaking the awkward silence.

"Bus, mom and dad don't know I'm here, they would freak," she replied.

I saw Sienna's face blanche with concern, knowing as well as I did that we did not really want to draw their attention and this was a dangerous situation we had found ourselves in.

"They won't find out, don't worry, I'm supposed to be staying with Charlotte and she's covering for me. Plus," the young woman paused, "I'm 18 now so," she added.

There was no hint of playfulness in her words, she reported her age almost regretfully.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry I missed your birthday, I didn't even text!" Sienna apologized, covering her mouth with both hands, and looking aghast.

"It's okay, really, you've got more than enough on your mind I'm sure," Hannah replied, nodding towards Sienna's pregnant belly.

Sienna noticed her gaze and smiled, nodding, and thanking her for being understanding.

"How long can you stay?" Sienna asked.

"I'm supposed to be at Charlotte's all weekend, so until Sunday," she paused again, "if, if that's okay. I also don't mind just--" her words were cut off by Sienna.

"Shush! Of course you can stay, I have missed you like crazy!" Sienna practically screamed.

Hannah's unsure expression melted away and a beautiful smile spread across her face, two perfect rows of glittering white teeth visible for the first time. It was short-lived however, as it faltered when she noticed me watching the interaction.

"Are you sure, everyone is okay with it?" she asked meekly.

Sienna scoffed and rolled her eyes before replying.

"Dad is amazing, don't worry Hann," she said calmingly.

I noticed Hannah's face twist a little bit when Sienna called me 'dad,' and I wondered how much of Julia and Ben's perception of me she had brought with her. Hopefully not much, but I was concerned with the kinds of information she could relay back to them and the implications. I would have to speak to Sienna about it as soon as I had the chance, we could very well have a spy in our midst.

This could very well be the tensest weekend of my life.