Shattered Illusions, Chosen Truths
Her dad, Javier, wanted nothing to do with Franky anymore. He didn’t want to force Kierra into anything she wasn’t ready for, so he passed her the phone, letting her decide for herself. That, however, wasn’t a smart idea.
For the first time in her life, Kierra felt a sense of power in her hands—real, fiery power—and Franky was about to see a side of her she’d never imagined.
“Hello?” Kierra answered coolly.
“Hi, how are you?” Franky replied with false sweetness.
“I’m good.”
“So... you heard the news?”
“What news?”
“I need your signature so I can come visit. Finally, we can be together.”
Kierra had dreamt of this moment—once. A time when she foolishly wanted them to be a family. But now, hearing Franky’s voice after overhearing her threaten her father moments ago, she knew exactly who this woman was.
“Oh really?” she said, poking the bear. “So why did you threaten my dad to give me the phone?”
Her father’s eyes widened. She was seventeen now, not a little girl anymore, and there was no hiding behind lies or sweet talk.
“Kierra,” he warned, hearing the steel in her tone.
She hit speakerphone. “No, Dad. She was never there. And I don’t ask for much—but both of you keep feeding me lies. And today, I’m calling bullshit.”
She caught herself from cursing further, though her father's face was already stunned.
“I’ll let you finish,” he said, defeated, and walked out of the room.
“K—” Franky started.
“No, you don’t,” Kierra snapped. “Only my grandmother gets to call me that. At least she cared.”
Suddenly, Franky’s mask dropped.
“Listen here, princess—if your so-called dad is listening, I don’t give a fuck.”
Kierra yanked the phone away from her ear. “What did this bitch just say?” she said, stunned.
Putting it back, she asked, “What do you mean so-called dad?”
“Oh, you want the truth?” Franky growled. “Then sit the fuck down. If it wasn’t for me and Javier, you wouldn’t be shit. And guess what? You still ain’t shit. So sign those fucking papers if you know what’s good for you.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be. Because you’re not even my child. Yet my name’s still on your birth certificate. You think that’s out of love? You slow excuse for a daughter.”
“What the hell did you just say?”
“Ask your dad. I’m done covering for his bullshit.”
Kierra’s heart iced over. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Franky’s voice became a blur in the background, but one thought rang crystal clear—she needed answers.
“You know what?” Kierra said, cutting through the noise. “Go find yourself. Fuck you.”
She hung up mid-sentence. Her hands trembled, tears pouring down. She bolted from the room, running to the only place that ever felt safe—her grandmother’s arms.
“Is it true?” she whispered.
Her grandmother held her tight. “Hey now. What’s going on?”
“Franky—”
“You mean Mommy Franky?”
“Why do you care what I call her?”
“Because her name is on your birth certificate.”
“So what? She’s no mother to me.”
“Did you know?” Kierra asked, voice cracking. “That I’m not his?”
Her grandmother hesitated. “I knew.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“It wasn’t my place.”
“So I’m not his. I’m not yours. I don’t belong anywhere.”
“Don’t say that,” her grandmother said gently, brushing Kierra’s hair back. “We may not be related by blood, but blood doesn’t make a family. Action does. I love you, and I always will.”
She cupped Kierra’s face. “Would you like to live with me from now on?”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You’re seventeen. You have your citizenship. Neither your dad nor Franky can take that from you.”
Kierra melted into her arms.
“Trust me,” her grandmother whispered. “You’ll be okay.”
From that day forward, Kierra worked harder than anyone else in her family ever had. She constantly felt like she had to prove that she belonged, that she wasn’t broken.
Years later, she asked her grandparents to help her track down her birth parents. They did the best they could, but only found a boy—three years old—abandoned and alone.
Kierra didn’t hesitate. She begged her grandmother to take him in.
At first, they were reluctant. But Kierra promised them she would graduate college in three years, find a good job, and provide for him herself.
That boy was Sebastian.
From the moment they met, they were inseparable. She still didn’t know why her birth parents gave her up—but in him, she found her real family.
She knew it might seem selfish to forget what the Johnsons had done for her—but she also knew that without understanding where she came from, she’d never know who she was.
And despite the pain, the abandonment, and the secrets, she still held on to hope. Hope that one day, her siblings might see her differently.
Being different meant she had choices to make. Would she stay guarded, or let herself soften before she became cold-hearted?
The past weighed heavily on her. The present felt uncertain. But the future—that was still hers to shape.
Apart from her grandmother, she never truly felt wanted. But she held on, motivated by love and resilience.
Because no matter how much her past tried to define her, Kierra refused to let it destroy the kind-hearted soul she worked so hard to preserve.