Perfection of Suffering - M. Sinclair Page 0,2

Jason, hadn’t adopted me. They claimed that they were the lucky ones for finding me, but I think we all knew who had truly lucked out here. It was why, despite having heard the story hundreds of times, I still asked them to tell me again and again. The story of how I came to live with them.

Apparently, at the time, they hadn’t even been looking to adopt. They’d been volunteering at a food shelter in the city when a group of children, around eight or nine in total, had come in. I’d been clinging to one of the girls, cold from living on the winter streets, and when they had served us food, my mom had gushed over me until one of the girls had literally handed me off to her. She’d assumed it had only been for a moment, but when she looked up, the kids had been making a swift exit.

I tried to not let the idea of being simply handed off like that bother me, because I’m sure they had been terrified, taking care of a child under two. It did make me wonder who had actually brought me into this world… but not enough to ever use my family’s resources to look into it.

I would never consider anyone my parents besides my mom and dad. They were some of the largest influences in my life and how I lived it. Not only were they naturally compassionate people, but they were always going out of their way to help others, and it was an attribute that I aspired to develop myself.

One of the elements I appreciated the most about my relationship, specifically with my mom, was how open she was. There were really no questions that she wouldn’t at least attempt to answer, and growing up, that had allowed me to feel as if I could tell her just about anything instead of shying away from it in fear of her opinion.

I think one of the most memorable moments had been when I’d asked her about why they had never had children of their ‘own.’ I had been scared to ask, but after finding out I was adopted… I had also been curious, and at twelve, I hadn’t had the filter to think about it through fully. Instead of getting defensive or not wanting to talk about it, my mom had sat down and explained that while they had originally been disappointed to find out that they couldn’t have children, she believed it was a blessing in disguise because they had found me. Whenever they asked me if I wanted siblings, I always told them that I wanted whatever they wanted, because it was true—I loved being the center of their attention, but if they wanted to make our family larger, I would never complain.

Although, at this point, I felt like all of Wildberry Lane was my family.

I was well aware that the way my family lived wasn’t real life for most. The Aldridge family consisted of old money on both sides. My mother’s side had grown rich from olive oil production that they had imported into the United States from Italy, and my father’s side owned oil-rich land purchased long, long ago. Because of their generational wealth, I lived a life free of concerns about money or opportunity, and it was something that I would never take for granted.

“Dahlia?” My mom’s voice was light-hearted and happy as she walked out onto my balcony, her eyes darting towards the same house I was staring at. I didn’t feel guilty about being nosy, because mark my words, she’d been doing the same thing while flitting through the house, doing whatever it was that she had on her schedule. I still wasn’t completely sure what she did, if we were being honest—the woman always seemed to be doing ten different things at once.

“What’s up?” I asked curiously, standing and walking towards the archway of my room. The linen curtains brushed over me as I looked past her into my room, the two-story sanctuary feeling always rather alive because of all the windows I kept open.

The entire suite was colored with cream walls, dark wood floors, and massive, arching windows that I almost never locked. The space had changed throughout the years, but the contrast of the wood flooring and light walls had always remained constant, as did the plants that hung from shelves and filled each corner. Everything was large and luxurious, the space making me feel as