Identity theft

Liza was sitting at her desk, enjoying a perfect homemade latte, and absent-mindedly scrolling through Facebook. She looked down to admire her foaming milk art when she heard a message coming through on her DMs. She didn’t look up immediately because she wanted to take a picture of the perfect Christmas tree she had made on top of her coffee. Liza had a lot of time on her hands lately because she was between jobs, which she preferred to say instead of being out of work because it sounded much more optimistic.

When she was done filming her masterpiece and adding it to her timeline, she clicked on the message she had just received. It said, “Hi, Liza. My. My name is Will. I know this will come as a shock, and I’m sorry to send it this way, but I didn’t know how else to find you. I recently learned the true identity of my father, and it looks like he was your father, too. I’m not sure if you know this, so if you could message me back, I would like to see if we can figure this out.”

Her first reaction was one of panic—the fight-or-flight kind. She felt like an electric bolt had surged through her body, and her hands started to shake. She wanted to close the page, shut her computer, and run into the other room. When that passed, her next reaction was to click on his profile and see who this person was. She scrolled through his pictures and saw a man who looked to be about 15 years younger than her, with a wife and a baby. Liza started doing the math. She was 42, so that would make him 27 years old. Could it be possible that her father had gotten someone pregnant while he was married to her mom? It didn’t seem likely because her parents seemed like the happiest couple, dancing in the kitchen and looking at each other with love in their eyes. When they were killed by a drunk driver seven years ago, the only thing that helped her deal with the misery was the fact she didn't think they would have wanted to live without each other and would have wanted to be together in their afterlife. She messaged him back when she caught her breath, saying, “You are correct. This is a shock. How do you know that my dad was your dad for sure?”

Within seconds, another message came through. “You and I matched on a DNA site. And when I asked my mom, she finally told me the truth. She had always lied and said my father had died when I was a baby, but now that I connected with you, she felt it was best to come clean. She said they dated for a short period, and then one day, he disappeared, and she never heard from him again. When she realized she was pregnant, she had already moved to another state and decided to raise me on her own.”

Liza thought for a second, then remembered that she had done a DNA test a few years back, but nothing was out of the ordinary then. In fact, she didn’t have any matches and hadn’t been on the site since. Another message came: "My mom had a picture of her and our father together. I’ll send it to you.”

There was a knot in her stomach as she waited for the picture. She didn’t think she could handle seeing her father with another woman. Especially someone he got pregnant and deserted. It felt like hours, but it was only minutes before the image came through. She started typing furiously, “That’s not my father. That’s not his picture. I’m sorry, you must have the wrong person. I can send you a picture of my dad, but that’s not him.” She sighed in relief now that she knew her father was still her hero.

Will typed back, “Well, how did we match with the highest percentage of DNA, saying we were half-brother and sister? It doesn’t make sense.”

Liza responded, “I don’t know Will. I haven’t a clue. I wish you the best of luck in finding your family. Goodbye.” She closed her computer and carried her cup to the couch to reflect on what had happened. How could she have a close DNA match and have a different picture of her father than him? She felt her cat walking across the top of the couch and lay behind her. She reached back and stroked his head while she tried to put the pieces together, but she was getting nowhere. Her only recourse was to reach out to her mother’s sister and find out what was happening. She had always been close with her Aunt Paula when she was young and knew she could count on her.

“Hello, Liza. It’s so good to hear from you. It’s been a while. I feel bad we haven’t spoken with each other more often. It seems like time passes too quickly.” Paula said.

“Hi, Auntie. I’m sorry, too. You are still my favorite aunt, and I miss you. But you’re right, time does go too quickly. I have a question for you.” Liza replied.

“Of course, my dear. Go ahead and ask.” Paula wasn’t expecting what was about to come.

“I had a strange young man reach out to me on Facebook and say we were DNA matches and have the same father. However, when he sent a picture, that man wasn’t the same as my father. Can you explain what is going on?” Liza asked.

Her aunt was silent for a while, and Liza could hear that she had started to cry. When she collected herself, she said, “Liza. You are adopted. I’m so sorry that I must be the one to tell you this. I begged your parents many years back, but they made me swear I would take it to the grave. And, of course, we had no way of knowing they would perish in a horrible car accident together. Now I’m left to tell you the truth. I’m so sorry.”

Liza was numb and didn’t know how to respond. Being a good person, her first instinct was to console her aunt. “Oh, Auntie, I’m so sorry this burden fell on you. I can’t image how hard it must have been to hold it in for so long. Where am I from?”

Paula cleared her throat, collected her thoughts, and responded, “I don’t know all the details, Liza. I only know your mom couldn’t conceive, and someone connected her with a lady who had too many children and was pregnant. They made some kind of deal, and when you were born, your mom and dad took possession of you. The most important thing you need to know is how much they loved you. I’m sure that’s why your mom never told you. Once you were here, you were one of us, and that’s all that mattered.”

Liza was spinning and needed to get off the phone. “Ok, Auntie. I have to go. Thank you for the information. Love you.” Before her aunt had a chance to answer, she hung up.

Liza sat on the couch and stared blankly into the distance. How does one make peace with this information? Fifteen minutes ago, she knew who she was, and now, with one Facebook message, her whole life had changed. She used to look in the mirror and think she had her mother’s eyes. That wasn’t true.  She thought she got her dark brown hair and eyes from her father. That also wasn’t true. Nothing she knew was the truth. How did she go through life for 42 years and not know she was adopted? How did it never slip out at one family gathering or from her friends at school? This was so much to take in, and she didn’t know how to feel other than confused. She searched through her memories to see if she missed any clue that would have made her think she wasn't theirs. But there was nothing.

The setting sun cast a shadow onto the living room wall where Liza was sitting. It had been hours since she learned the news, and she hadn’t moved from the couch. Her thoughts ranged from “Who am I?” to “Who cares, nothing has changed.” Did she want to find her biological family and rewrite her history or stay in the present and be the person her parents raised her to be? Her aunt was right. Her parents loved her, and she was given everything and then some that a child could need. There were so many questions that remained to be answered. Or did they? Could she just go on with her life and put this behind her, or would she give in to the curiosity of needing to find out where she came from?

When Liza could finally muster the energy to get up from the couch, she went back to her desk and opened the laptop. She had made peace with the information her aunt had given her and had a solid decision about how she would go forward. She went back to her messages and typed the following words, “Will. I hope you don’t think I’m rude, but I would appreciate it if we just left this alone. Once again, I wish you the very best of luck in connecting with your family, but I already have one, and I’m not emotionally ready to take on more than that. Yours truly, Liza.”

She closed her computer and returned to the couch to pet her cat. “I’m Liza Emory. Katherine, and Thomas Emory’s daughter, and that’s who I will always be.” She closed her eyes and felt grateful for her wonderful parents, whom she loved even more now, knowing the gift she had received by being chosen to be their child.