Chapter Four

Mira’s POV

I'm twelve years by the way and my name is Mira, at least that how I like to spell it but mum tells me that the spelling is Myra ; I don't know why she chooses to spell my name that way.

It’s April 12, 1998 and I'm at the hospital. The doctors said something about mum being dehydrated or malnourished. I don't get these jargons especially if mum does nothing but cook three meals a day, set the table and wait on dad to come home from his job.

For someone one who practically lives in the kitchen to be pulled into the hospital because she was dehydrated and malnourished.

I can help but let a laugh escapes my lips. Dad is always busy; the man loves his job as a news anchor more than my mum of whom he has been married to for eleven years

The nurse is back in mum’s room, she tells her it’s time for her test, or was it her lab work. I don't seem to understand any of these jargons. There is a plantain chips beside her bed, I reach for it, my eyes glancing between the TV and the chips.

Nothing here is interesting: I feel bored and hungry. I turn towards mum

“Mum, please can you spare some change”

I flip my hair; she just gave me my pocket money some weeks ago. I don’t want her asking me, if it’s already done.

“What do you need Mira ” her words along a cough. She pulls her braids into a bun, they look worn out. I wonder when she is going to make an appointment with a hair stylist to fix it. I don't remember the last time she visited a salon or and I know it's been weeks since she last polished her nails.

I wish she would take care of herself or at least put herself first, instead of dad; that man barely comes home, except when he feels like it, even when I mentioned over the phone this afternoon, while the emergency service rolled mum into the ambulance, he said the same thing.

“Mira you know, I'm working.”

I’m already rolling my eyes to the thought, he is the one reason I have no intention of ever marring. Son of Adam: that’s what the actress on that TV show called the man who tried to put a ring on her finger. I loved her confidence to live through life without being tied to any man; every time, I think of mum and her ending up in this white painted room with twin bed and a 22 inch tv in front of me. I tell myself, the same words “No Son of Adam is worth this” This room, feels like a prison

“Here you go Mira ”

Mum’s airy voice breaks me out of my thoughts. I watch her ones lively looking skin, look dry and scaly. I want to say, mum put a lip gloss over your lips at least, but I can't say it; mum might be sad. The voice of the nurse in a blue scrub with a clipboard resting on her arm, breaks into the room, as she walks in;

“Maria, are you ready for the blood work?”

My mum’s name is Maria Regan, she kept my grandfather's name even after her marriage to my dad; Dean, Clark , the news anchor of Gevi broadcasting network. The man loves his work so much. I watch him deliver the nine PM news every day.

I stand up, and reach my hand towards mum. She drops some squished and rolled up notes from her purse, into my soft palm.

My tummy grumbles and I can't tell if it’s because I haven't had the chance to use the restroom or if it’s for the food. I drop the coins and notes, she gave me on the brown table, I decide to use the restroom first before heading towards the cafeteria but mum is in the restroom. I need to use the public restroom.

I’m in a hurry, that I'm not looking at what's in front of me. I nearly collide with someone walking past the door.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," I say, looking at the nurse I almost hit.

He is holding on to a wheelchair and when I see who is sitting in the wheelchair, my lips part in surprise. It is a boy and be looks to be around my age. He has a bandage over his eyes but his head is turned in my direction.

"No worries. Just be careful in these halls and don't run, okay?" The nurse says as he smiles tiredly at me.

I nod and notice beside the boy is a dog wagging his tail next to the wheelchair. I let out a squeak and take a step back.

The nurse laughs. "Don't worry. He won't bite."

I don't say anything as I watch the nurse push his wheelchair along. The dog follows them, wagging his tail.

“Myra ” I hear someone call my name. I turn around but the person heads towards another girl. I wonder if her name is spelled with a C or K, like mine.

“Myra ?” the boy with the bandage says, though his tone sounds like a question. I walk past him; I need to use the restroom.

I walk past the nurse's station, a nurse is busy typing on the computer and another conversing with a man with a white coat, he is probably a doctor, but who cares. I need to use the restroom.

Behind him is a medium height man with a clean shaven face and a brown scarf wrapped around his neck. My face registers recognition. He must be here to see mum, since she is sick

"Dad,"

I let out the words, but it comes out as a mumble because next to him is another woman her head is rested over his shoulder and her hand anchor between his. She is smiling, her red hair resting lightly on her back. She looks happy, unlike mum who is here at the hospital, sick.

I follow them, and for some reason I don't feel like using the restroom anymore. The woman doesn't look dehydrated on malnourished like mum who the irony is the part where she prepares three meals a day, seats on the set table and wait for dad, and when the clock clangs the new meal time, she packs and cleans the table, then begins to cook yet another meal. I once asked her what her dream was and she said she wanted to be a designer, a wedding dress designer but the way mum has lived her life this days is like, her dreams is dad coming home and eating her food; I guess some dreams don't come true, no matter how much you try.

Sometimes, I try to understand dad, when it comes to him being hardworking; that's how someone should be in life, right? Have a dream and go after it. My dream is to become a bridal dressmaker, stay single and enjoy my life without any strings; i won't make the same mistake mum made. Ruin my life for some son of Adam. No one is worth it. I'm glad school is on holiday from today till the 16 of June. I won't know what to do with me, being off work; after all if I want to achieve my dream, and should study hard to achieve it.

I watch them turn to a new wing of the hospital away from mum’s. I follow quietly. Dad slides open a hospital room door, and the woman follows. I walk towards the door and on it is the name: Lize Cruz. I run my eyes around the hall; no one is here, not even the nurses at the nurse’s station of this wing. I carefully slid open the door and watch, the woman, her hand resting over dad’s shoulder- he is taller than her, with both standing in a white-painted room with a twin bed; her voice croaky

"How about our child Clark , she has been asking for her dad?"

“What child?”

"I keep telling a thirteen-year-old stories like, your dad died serving the country."

She sniffs and wipes her eyes "She is a very curious girl, Clark and will find out the truth someday."

"I now have a daughter," Dad takes a seat.

“Off course, you do Clark . You have two daughters. Mine is thirteen and her’s twelve. I had our child first; shouldn't she be your priority?” The woman kneels on the marble titled floor next to dad’s leg.

“I have just one daughter” Dad crosses his feet, his hand rested against the arm of the leather couch he is seating on.

“Mine or her’s” Lize’s voice raises into a pitch "Do you know that her daughter, Myra ? Isn't your child, she adopted that girl and faked the baby bump?”

"Stop" Dad clenches his fist against the chair. "She is my wife, and I love her."

The woman lets out a scoff. "No, you don't love her; you and I know the truth." The woman lifts her hand from the floor and wiped her eyes.

“You own two daughters by the name Myra ; mine and hers” She stands up, from the floor “And why would she insist on naming hers, Myra too? She knows better, hers can’t replace the real Myra ”

“Stop it, Lize ”

The woman turns around towards the door, she locks eyes with me, her lips curves into a smile, though it looks very leery “Maria adopted that girl when she traveled to Calitain, you weren’t together so couldn’t see the bump was fake."

My skin grows cold on her words. I had always wondered why dad had blue eyes and black curly hair and mum hazel eyes and black wavy hair but myself brown eyes and straight auburn hair. I look nothing similar to my parent genetically. My best friend Emily Drew had mentioned these differences to me once but I ignore it, after all they were my parent. I wonder what dad’s other daughter might look like, like dad or her mum.

"I said stop it," Dad’s words pulls me out of thought; he points his fingers at her. "Your greed knows no bounds."

She chuckles "It takes one to know one. Aren't you married to her because of greed too? Her parents are wealthy" Lize ’s eyes moves to the door once again, but i look down.

"Aren't we all greedy? She named her adopted daughter, Myra , the unique name we had for our daughter." She continues

Dad shots her, a glare."Why do you keep bringing up the past?"

"The past, you say." She looks at her long, painted nails " I named her, after my mum, but your wife just…”

"Lize , I keep telling you to stop it, but you wouldn't," Clark cut in

He stands up and Lize , places her hand against his chest. I wonder why dad sounds angry at her. Does he know that I'm listening? Is he defending his love for mum or he is guilty that, she is telling the truth about his marrying my mum because of her parent’s wealth. If mum knew he had another daughter by the name Myra

, why did she insist on naming me after her? If mum and dad aren't in love, why did they both decide to be my parent? Did mum adopt me, because she thought dad won't leave her if she has a child? Should i hate this two adult, who i have come to know as my parent? No, they have provided for me and i have never felt the need to question if I'm adopted until Lize just mentioned it.

"You still smell the same: aromatic citrus with a spicy scent of—" She says

"—I can smell alcohol under your breath," he cut in and reaches for her hand which is resting on his chest “Lize , I need you to move to Calitain, this morning; your being here will cause scandal”

“Scandal?” She scoffs "Don't you want to meet Myra ? I sent her to the hospital's cafeteria to buy breakfast."

“I’m running for senate, in some years from now. I can’t afford scandal to my political image”

She moves closer then looks towards the door, but I pull it shut. I don't want to see what she does next; she is up to no good.